Necessary Monsters
by RaptorusMaximus
Summary: Comander Shepard is a Hero. A paragon of all that is good about sentient life in the galaxy. But she must stand against a force that cares not for heros, for honor, for the sanctity of life. Luckily, newcomers have arived who share these traits, and will work parallel to Shepard in the darkness; the Shadows to her Light. After all, no-one expects the Imperial Inquisition.
1. Chapter 1

**Necessary Monsters**

Chapter 1

 _Unknown Place, Unknown Time..._

 _Where am I? And why does it look like a rainbow vomited on everything?_

These were the first thoughts of Jane Shepard as she found herself in a place she could not recognize, or even remember getting too.

She was floating, of that Shepard was certain. Her body was weightless, levitating in what was by far one of the strangest, but most beautiful, places she had ever seen.

Surrounding her on all sides was a swirling, chaotic storm of color. All around her, more shades and tinges than she thought existed in the universe mixed and split and moved, in a strange dance that was at the same time beautiful and, strangely, painful to watch.

A strand of color, a bright violet, snaked out towards her in her little bubble of calm amongst the maelstrom. On a whim, Shepard reached out and touched the strand. Suddenly, her mind was filled with feelings of love, hundreds of voices filling her head with their thoughts. She pulled her hand away on impulse, and the voices ceased. The tendril, unconcerned with her contact, continued through the calm and merged with the surrounding colors.

 _What the hell was that_? She thought. _What is this place?_

"Commander"

She turned as a voice sounded behind her, soft and gravelly. Floating there, slightly above her, was a man. He was older, looking to be in his late fifties. His hair was silver-grey in color and cropped close to his head. His face was weathered, with a scar that ran across his right eye. His eyes were a vibrant shade of green, and seemed to speak of secrets old and terrible.

Besides his head, she could see very little of the man's body, as he wore a long black coat that concealed most of his form. His arms were held behind his back as he appraised the woman before him.

"Who are you?" Shepard asked. "Do you know where we are?"

The man ignored her question and looked out into the maelstrom around them. "Look, Commander." he said, gesturing to the storm.

She turned to the swirling colors and saw that there were now hundreds-no thousands-of black specks moving though maelstrom.

And where these specks moved, the colors died, replaced by a monotonous, dead grey.

And as the specks continued to destroy the storm, two sounds reached Shepherd's ears.

The first was a deep, reverberating synthetic roar.

The second sound was of countless voices, screaming and shouting and crying; in terror, in defiance, in agony, in rage. Occasionally she would pick out individual voices from the throng...

The flanged voice of a Turian: "I need an airstrike on my position right now...no, directly on my position, Husks are swarming us. Lock onto my com signal…"

The deep bellowing voice of a Krogan which was underlaid by a wet gurgling: "Come on then you wet sacks of pyjack shit, let's see what you've got! GRAAAAAAAA!"

The electronic, panicking voice of a quarian: "Captain, the last shot severed the coolant lines. The reactor is threatening to overload! Attempting to compensate!"

The pleading, feminine voice of an asari: "Oh goddess, please...if you can hear me, please don't let them find me...oh no...please, PLEASE!"

Soon, the black dots had reduced the vibrant maelstrom of color to a few scattered clusters, weakly pulsing and spinning in the vast expanse of grey. The specks then retreated beyond her vision, leaving her alone in the grey.

Shepard turned back to the man, to find that he was no longer alone. Floating along side him was a young woman with an angular face, hazel eyes, and light brown hair. She was attractive, but her eyes were hard, and she observed Shepard with a look of cold contempt. Like the older man, she wore a long black coat and held her arms behind her back.

Before the two coated observers were a pair of what appeared to be prisoners, a man and a woman, in orange, form-fitting clothing. The pair wore execution hoods, and their hands were bound behind their backs.

"What is this?"Shepard asked, confused. "Where did they come from?" She gestured at the newcomers.

Again, the man ignored her question and spoke.

"Commander, there is a darkness coming. An evil the likes of which this galaxy has not seen for tens of thousands of years. If you are to face it and succeed, sacrifices must be made." On that, both of the watchers moved in unison and pulled the execution hoods off of the prisoners before them.

The hoods removed, Jane saw that the female prisoner had short raven hair, brown eyes, and a familiar ovular face. The man had short-shaved black hair, brown eyes, and and a blocky, well- kept face.

Ashley Williams and Kaiden Alenko looked down at her, bound and gagged, with a pleading fear naked in their eyes.

"What?" Shepard was shocked. "What are you doing with them? Let them go immediately!" Her voice began to get louder as her anger grew.

The green eyed man paid no heed to her rising anger, and spoke again as if she had not interrupted, "You must be willing to make these sacrifices, or else all may be lost to the coming darkness." With that, he reached beneath his large coat, his female companion doing the same.

As one, the pair drew bulky, unfamiliar black pistols and pressed them against the backs of Kaiden and Ashley's heads.

"No!" Shepard cried, reaching out towards the group. "Stop!"

The green eyed man looked back to her, his face an impassive mask.

"Choose, Commander," he said, "which one shall die?"

"Wha...are you kidding me? I'm not going to choose one of them to die! They're my teammates, my friends!"

The man's eyes narrowed. "You do not have a choice in the matter, Commander. One of them must die, and you must decide who. Otherwise, _both_ shall die, and you soon after. A sacrifice must be made for the greater good of all."

Shepard looked between her two friends helplessly, and the unknown woman snorted derisively at her indecision. "She cannot make the sacrifice, master. She is too weak-hearted. Let us just end them and be done with it."

"Be silent!" The man snapped, then looked back to Jane, his eyes now hard and a look of annoyance on his face. "Choose, Comander. The Soldier or the Sentinel? Which shall perish?"

"I...no...I can't…" Shepard felt the helplessness of the situation begin to overwhelm her. She could not move in this place; she had no weapons, no omni-tool, no way to stop the murder of her friends. All she could do was make a choice, and it was an impossible decision to make.

"Choose, Commander." The man said again, displeasure evident in his voice.

"Shepard?"

Jane heard a voice calling her name, quiet and muffled. She looked for the source of the sound, but could see nothing but the grey.

"Choose, Commander!" The man said, more sharply now, and she saw his grip tighten on his pistol.

"Please, don't do this. If you have to kill anyone, kill me. Just leave them alone!" She pleaded.

The man snorted in annoyance. "That would be incredibly counter-productive, Commander. _You_ are needed for what is to come. _They_ are not. Now, _choose_! Time runs short!"

"Shepard!"

The other voice was louder now, less echo-y. She could now tell that the voice was distinctly feminine, and rather familiar.

"Commander!" The green-eyed man was almost shouting now. He glared at her, annoyance and anger glaring on his face. "Time has run out. You must choose NOW or they both shall die!"

"I can't! I can't choose between the lives of two of my oldest friends! Why are you doing this?!" Shepard practically screamed at the older man.

The man looked...disappointed at her outburst. She could see that she had failed some kind of test in his eyes, and that he had been hoping for her to succeed. But then his face once again grew determined and he flicked off the safety on his pistol.

"Very well then, Commander. Then, by your actions, they both die."

Shepard could only watch as the pair's fingers tightened on the trigger's of their pistols.

And with a paired bang, Ashley and Kaiden's heads exploded into fine red mist.

"NO!" She screamed as the bodies of her friends slumped lifelessly. Her eyes welled with tears of sadness and rage, but then, the corpses began to fade, slowly becoming more immaterial until they vanished all together. Shepard could only stare dumbfounded at the two cloaked figures who remained, unable to conceive a rational explanation for what had just occurred.

The pair in black holstered their pistols and looked at her. They spoke again, in total synchronisation, but their voices were different now. The man's voice was deeper, clearer, and sounded...noble, as much as a voice can sound 'noble'. The woman's voice was no longer scornful, but soft and melodious, as if she were about to burst into song.

"Unfortunate. We had hoped for more...conviction. We dearly hope you perform better in the future, Commander Shepard. Now go; you are needed elsewhere."

 **"Jane!"**

The voice was everywhere now, echoing and reverberating around her. Such was it's volume that Jane felt her ears might rupture.

She looked once more at her tormentors, and for a brief moment they were overlaid with another ethereal form, like the afterimage in a photograph.

The man, for a moment, was twice his current height; clad in armor of brightest gold, with a burning blade at his side, and a corona of light behind his head.

The woman, for an instant, was clad in a blowing, beautiful dress; her hair raven black, her features angular and perfect, and her cheeks stained with tears.

Together, they spoke.

" _ **Awaken**_."

…

 _Year 2183, onboard the SSV Normandy..._

Shepard jolted awake in her bed on the Normandy, sitting up rapidly.

And cracking her forehead on the blue-skinned alien who was leaning worriedly over her.

"Ah!" They both cried out, more from surprise than anything else.

Jane recovered faster, wincing as she brought a hand to her sore forehead. She looked over at the source of her pain, and her annoyance turned to worry as her groggy brain finally realized who it was.

"Oh my god, Liara! Are you ok?"

The Asari straightened from her bent-over posture, one hand holding her nose, which was dribbling a small amount of blue blood.

"Yes, Shepard, I'm fine."

"Crap, you're bleeding!" Jane cried, jumping out of her bed. "Hold on, I'll go get Dr. Chakwas…" she turned to leave the room, her sleep-addled mind running on automatic.

"Jane, wait!" Liara said, grabbing the woman by the arm before she could barge out of the room. She turned Jane around and grabbed ahold of her shoulders. "Shepard, I'm fine. It's just a little nosebleed, and my fault in any case."

Shepard's mind cleared as she listened to Liara's soothing voice. She shook her head to clear the last few cobwebs and looked into Liara's beautiful blue eyes. A sense of calm she hadn't felt for months fell over her as she lost herself in those eyes.

At that point both women realized just how close they were to each other and quickly backed away, their cheeks flushed; red for Jane, purple for Liara. Their embarrassment was not helped by Shepard's attire; she wore only a thin white t-shirt and a very short pair of shorts when she slept.

"So, uh…" Shepard began awkwardly. "Was there something you wanted to talk about, Liara?"

"Ah, I was just coming to tell you that we're a few hours out from Virmire, and the others wanted to discuss the plan of attack. I…" she paused for a moment, "I didn't intend to come in, but I heard you cry out and I worried that there might be something wrong. I called your name twice, but you didn't respond. I got worried, so I overrode the lock and came in. You were thrashing around on your bed, and I had just come over to try and wake you when you woke up." Her blush got a little bit darker. "Sorry about breaking in."

"No, no, it's fine." Shepard assured her. "I appreciate your concern. I was just having a…" She paused, for she could not really remember what had happened in her dream. Most of it had faded, and all she could remember were colors, then greyness, and a pair of piercing green eyes.

"A nightmare, I guess." She said. Liara still looked somewhat concerned, but accepted her explanation.

"Well, considering everything is fine, and you aren't being murdered, I should head to the briefing room and let you...get dressed." She said, her cheeks flushing slightly again.

"Right, probably the best plan." Shepard replied as the Asari turned and left. "See you in a bit!" She called as the door slid shut behind Liara.

Shepard's shoulders slumped slightly as the door slid shut. "Real smooth, Jane. Sleep-headbutting someone is definitely a great way to show affection." She paused. "Actually, if Liara was a Krogan, it might be." She sighed heavily as a grim mood fell over her, but shook it off and went to gather up her clothes.

Battle was imminent, and everyone had to be ready.

…

Five minutes after Shepard awoke from her dream, she walked into the briefing room at the rear of the Normandy's crew deck. She walked through the door and saw that all the members of her team were already there.

Garrus and Wrex were standing along the right side of the room, engaged in their usual combination of banter and posturing, although by now it had lost the underlying hostility that punctuated their original interactions.

Tali was seated in the chair closest to the far wall on the right side of the room, fluctuating between tinkering with her omni tool and sneaking glances at a totally oblivious Garrus. Shepard smirked as she noticed this. Hell, **everyone** on the ship had noticed the looks that the young Quarian often threw the way of the former C-Sec officer. It was getting to the point where Shepard was honestly considering just outright telling the dense turrian to wake the hell up and ask her out the next time they stopped at the Citadel.

Liara was waiting patiently in her seat as well, and looked up as Jane entered, giving her a warm smile of greeting which set Shepard's heart fluttering.

Lastly, her eyes were drawn to Kaiden and Ashley, who were talking to each other quietly in the corner, a happy smile on both of their faces, hands intertwined. Normally, the sight of two of her oldest friends on the Normandy so enamored with the other presence gave her a warm feeling in her stomach; today though, looking at them, she felt nothing but a cold knot of dread that sent a small shiver down her spine, and a quiet, gravely voice in the back of her mind whispering ' _Choose_ '.

She shook her head as all eyes turned to her. She put a smile on her face as she walked over to the holoprojector, using her omni-tool to pull up an image of Virmir on the projector.

 _Calm down._ She thought to herself. _It was just a bad dream_.

But as she looked over her assembled team, their confident, determined faces regarding her and the planet they would soon be landing on, the knot in her stomach only grew tighter.

 _Just a dream_ she thought again, as the sense of dread grew, and she steeled herself to go over the plan of attack on Virmire.

…

 _M. 40, Y 313, Segmentum Tempestus, unknown system_.

"Uhg."

"My lord? Are you alright?"

Lord Inquisitor Marthas Devinir opened his eyes and looked to the source of the voice, an aging man of around sixty in a Navy uniform with many, many medals attached to the breast of the coat.

The Inquisitor nodded in response to the question, removing his hands from the side of his head, where they had been softly massaging his temples for the last twenty minutes or so, attempting to remove the splitting headache that had come upon him suddenly. It had just receded, and that was why he had made the small noise concerning the captain.

He explained as much to Captain Dracov, who furrowed his brow.

"With all due respect Inquisitor, it may be best if you got some rest. We are less than two hours from our target, and it would not due to have you at less than optimal condition when we confront our prey."

Many men would never dream of speaking to a member of His holy Ordos in such a 'disrespectful' manner; but Marthas and Dracov had worked together for nearly a century by now, and the Inquisitor knew when to heed his old friend's advice.

"I think I shall do just that, Captain. The bridge is yours. Notify me when we are withing ten minutes of our destination, and wake me for nothing else short of gelar field failure."

The Captain nodded. "As you wish, my Lord."

As Devinir strode from the bridge of his vessel, _His Silent Blade_ , he again raised a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes, hiding their piercing green coloration from the somewhat painfully bright light of the hallway leading from the bridge.

He could not for the life of him get this image out of his head. It had appeared in a flash just as his headache had subsided, and he had no idea what it meant, though he had detected some kind of Psychic connection when it 'arrived', for lack of a better term.

The image was of an armored, young-looking human woman with vibrant, shoulder-length red hair engaged in hand-to-hand combat with an unfamiliar xeno species with what appeared to be a hard, shell-like skin and frills coming off the back of it's head.

The pair were fighting for control of a blade, a combat knife, and the alien seemed to have the upper hand, with him stradling the woman and pushing the blade down at her with a robotic arm.

However, what was most troubling was what was behind the pair. For it seemed to be Terra, as shown in the most ancient of images, under siege, with large, organic-looking starships decending from the skies onto the world below, and the teltale orange of fires spreading accross the surface of the planet.

Marthas had no idea what this vission meant, but he planned to find out.

He just had one thing to do before he could get started, and that was only a few hours away.

 _I'm sure this vision can wait until after we deal with Gerakas._ He thought as he reached and entered his quarters.

And far off in the warp, three entities smiled at the man's ignorance.

...

 _A/n_

 _Sorry if this is full of bad spelling and gramar. I don't have a computer atm, so I've uploaded it via mobile device, which is absolute shit to work with._

 _In any case, I hope you enjoyed the first instalment of Nececary Monsters._

 _Until next time,_

Imperator senatus et populi Romani Dinosaurs!


	2. Chapter 2

_**Hello! Thank you for returning to my story. I greatly appreciate your interest.**_

 _ **Now, to answer some questions:**_

 _ **HK Target Shooter: Of course, who but Astartes would make up the Deathwatch?**_

 _ **Species Unknown: Yes, the story starts towards the end of ME1, and shall continue until the end of ME3.**_

 _ **Also, does anyone know who the Anon is who posted the FIVE articles in my reviews section? While they are interesting, just want to know...why? I meean, I've seen the exact same article about the Imperium in another stories reviews. Does this person have such little faith in us authors he/she/it/they feel the need to post this stuff?**_

 _ **Anyway, on to the story!**_

Chapter 2

 _Marthas Devinir is one of the most radical Inquisitors I have ever met. His actions are reckless, dangerous, and often just a hair shy of being outright Heretical. However, I cannot deny that he get's results; and often with a lesser loss of human life and resources than many inquisitors both more devout and decades his senior. Loath as I am to admit it, he is effective, and from what I have observed completely devoted to the Imperium, and is of little risk of going rogue. I recommend that he be watched, but it is my personal opinion that Devinir should be retained by the Inquisition._

 _-Inquisitor Weryn Salov of the Ordo Hereticus_

 _Year 2183, SSV Normandy, in orbit of the planet Virmire_

"Well, it certainly looks better than most of the planets we've visited in the last couple months. I'd probably vacation here; yknow, if it weren't for the insane genocidal ex-Specter and his army of Geth, husks, and Krogan who've taken up residence. Stuff like that can really turn off tourists."

Despite the still present (but diminished) knot of apprehension settled in Jane's stomach, she couldn't help but smile at Joker's running commentary of the situation at hand. She stood beside the pilot's chair in the cockpit of the Normandy in her upgraded N7 armor, looking out at the lush, tropical world where their quarry had gone to ground.

Jane's mind unexpectedly ran over the time she had known Joker, and how her opinions on him had changed over time. Though initially she had found the pilot to be rude, unprofessional, and generally annoying, his sarcastic humor and dark optimism, in addition to his incredible skills as a pilot, had grown on her in the months they'd spent in this mission, and now she could not imagine the Normandy without him.

 _Hell, I couldn't imagine this ship without any of the crew. We're more than shipmates, than team members at this point-we're family._

And that fact made the idea of losing them all the worse to Shepard. She'd lost one family to crime back on earth-she didn't know if she could survive losing another.

 _Choose_ , a soft voice whispered in the back of her mind.

 _Oh shut up._ She thought, and spoke to Joker. "What are the scans showing about Saren's base?"

"Well, first off it's huge. Way too big to have been built recently, so we know that he's been planning this for quite a while." Joker said, his voice all business now. "It's got a pretty intensive AA array that covers the whole base and a good deal of airspace around it. We won't be able to get the Normandy anywhere near it until those guns are down."

Shepard nodded. That was an issue, but not an insurmountable one. They had the Mako for situations like this, after all. "What about the STG team? Do we know where they are?"

"Yup." Joker said, keying up a map of the area around Saren's base and causing an area just south of the main compound, but still well within the defensive lines, to light up. "This is where I've picked up the salarian's signals from. They areinside the AA coverage of this gun here," he pointed to a newly highlighted spot on the map, "so we, and by we I mean you, will have to get to that gun via the Mako before I can land. Then you can meet us at the salarian camp."

"Of course, it would be that difficult." Jane muttered to herself. "Can we at least tell them that we're coming? Maybe they could hit some of these defenses from behind, make our jobs a little easier."

"Sorry commander, but I've tried to contact them already. Something down there is jamming the broadband signals. If I could find their specific team-signal, I could get them a message, but STG com signals are _very_ hard to pin down. If you get down there, we should be able to brute-force past the jamming into your far more familiar com signals, but contacting the salarians is a no-go."

"Well, I guess we have a bit of work to do then." Just then her coms buzzed, and Kaiden's familiar, gravelly voice came through.

"Shepard, everyone's geared up and waiting in the hold. We can go whenever you need."

"Thanks Kaiden, I'll be down shortly. Tell Garrus to get the Mako ready for deployment."

"Aye Commander, Alenko out."

Jane looked back at Joker, "Get us down to the drop sight, and then maintain a safe distance until we deal with those guns." Jane said, turning to leave the cockpit.

"Got it Commander. Good luck." he replied as the pilot turned back to his controls.

Shepard walked briskly through the CIC, nodding as she passed navigator Presley, and headed down the stairs to the crew deck, and probably the most hated part of the ship.

The elevator.

With a sigh of resignation, Jane climbed into the elevator and hit the control to bring her to the cargo hold.

As the metal box began its glacial decent, Shepard's mind began to wander. She thought again to her barely remembered dream, and the sense of unease that lingered even almost two hours later. She had a bad feeling about this upcoming mission, and there was nothing specific she could do to assuage her fears.

 _All I can do is lead to the best of my ability, and do my damndest to ensure every member if this crew makes it home._

As the thought passed through her mind, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.

Jane was mildly dumbstruck. _That felt like no time at all._

She shook herself from her surprise and walked out into the hold. The rest of her team were already gathered, armed and armored for the mission at hand.

The group turned as the elevator opened, greeting her with expressions ranging from determined to confident to outright amused (Wrex was always up for a good fight).

Shepard surveyed her squad for a moment, then walked over to her locker and grabbed her last few pieces of gear; her Specter-grade sniper rifle and pistol, which had names consisting of random letters and numbers, five disk-like grenades, and her helmet. She attached her weapons and explosives to the mag-plates on her armor and tucked her helmet under her arm. She turned to her team, her friends, and spoke.

"Alright everyone, this is it. This is the closest that we have ever been to Saren and whatever he is doing in that facility down there; and frankly I don't care. All I care about is stopping this psycho, so let's just get down there and kick his ass."

Wrex let out a bellowing laugh. "Spoken like a true battlemaster, Shepard! So, what's the plan?"

Everyone looked at her expectantly, and Jane didn't miss a beat. "The compound, and the STG camp, is currently protected by Anti-Aircraft guns. Me, Liara, and Garrus will take the Mako and knock out one of those guns, opening up a hole for the Normandy to come through and drop the rest of you off."

Garrus looked at Wrex and flashed a toothy grin (which is the only kind of grin a turian _can_ flash) and said, "Well then, guess you're going to have to wait to try out that shiny new shotgun of yours, eh Wrex?"

The krogan chuckled and pulled out the aforementioned weapon, a modified M-100 Claymore heavy shotgun. He stroked the bulky weapon and grinned back at the turian, saying "We can try it out now if you want birdbrain."

Liara let out an exasperated sigh "Boys, can you please knock it off. This is kind of an important mission, and I think the time for jokes has passed."

Both aliens were silent for a moment, and then nodded their compliance. Liara nodded in approval then turned without a further word and strode towards the Mako. Jane chuckled at the motherly attitude the 'young' asari seemed to take on around their more rowdy teammates. She suddenly had a mental image of Liara in a stereotypical housewife outfit, complete with apron, scolding a pair of krogan and turian boys who were fighting over a toy.

 _Whoa, calm down Jane. Where did that come from?_

She shook of the image and began to walk towards the Mako, waving for Garrus to come along. The turian moved to follow, but a three-fingered hand grabbed his arm and halted his movement.

Garrus turned to Tali, his face a mix of surprise and curiosity as to why he had been halted. Both were silent for a moment, then Tali squeezed the turian's arm ever so slightly and quietly said, "Be safe, Garrus."

Garrus' face went all the way too surprised for a moment, before softening ever so slightly as understanding reached his dense turian brain, and a small smile broke across his face.

"I'll do my best Tali. After all, I think we'll need to have a bit of a conversation after this mission is over. Hard to talk when you're dead."

Though Shepard could not see her face, Tali's body language showed that she had a massive smile on as Garrus gently pulled away and climbed into the Mako.

As the vehicle's door closed, the turian turned to see Jane grinning wolfishly at him, and Liara sporting an amused smile.

"What?" he asked confused.

"Sure took your sweet time with that, Garrus." Shepard said, amusement rich in her voice.

"Indeed. I was beginning to wonder if you would ever notice how infatuated Tali is with you."

"Come on, it couldn't have been _that_ long." Garrus said skeptically.

Shepard activated her Omni-tool and pulled up a running timer, which she now stopped and consulted. "It has been two months, six days, eight hours, twenty-five minutes and four seconds since I first noticed Tali making advances towards you, give or take a day or two." She grinned again at Garrus. "So, what was that you were saying the other day about how perceptive you were?"

Garrus let out a heavy sigh and rested his head in his claws hands. "Commander, with all due respect," he said, exasperated and embarrassed, "shut the hell up."

...

 _M. 40, Y 313, Segmentum Tempestus, Unnamed System_

In the darkness of space on the edge of a nameless, useless system within the Imperium of Mankind, a small fleet of ships silently glide through the void.

The fleet consisted of only six ships; five escort-weight vessels, and a single cruiser-weight ship.

The escorts showed a good mixture of the mainline vessels seen in many imperial fleets; there were two firestorm-class lance frigates which flew in escort with the cruiser. The other vessels were a single Sword-class frigate which led two Claymore-class corvettes. This group flew ahead of the cruiser, ready to intervene with any threats that may appear, like a trio of guard dogs pulling ahead of their master.

The cruiser was a variant of the popular Dauntless-class light cruiser, known by the few who could recognize the rare pattern as an Indomitable-class light cruiser/exploratory vessel, an ancient, little used class of starship that now only saw service in the fleets of rogue traders and inquisitors.

Indomitable-class vessels were designed in the dark age of technology to act as the forward line of mankind's explorations into the stars. They ranged far ahead of the main colonization and military fleets, scouting out star systems and reporting back their findings. These vessels were designed to go for long stretches without resupply or reinforcement, and so had several key internal and external differences to the Dauntless-class vessels they were modeled after.

The Indomitable class added an extra five hundred meters to the four-point-five kilometer length of the Dauntless, bringing it up to a (roughly) even five kilometers. It was also somewhat wider, eight hundred meters at the widest point.

Besides the size increase, Indomitables were, to the untrained eye, indistinguishable to its smaller cousin. However, there were distinct differences.

For starters, the engines were slightly bigger than a scaled-up Dauntless would have, granting the larger ship increased speed compared even to the legendarily fast light cruiser. These engines allowed the vessel to mount the trademark armored prow that many imperial vessels had, providing extra forward protection and allowing for the ramming of enemy ships.

In regard to armament, the vessel had only two torpedo tubes compared to the four a Dauntless would have. The vessel also had a lance battery mounted under and behind the prow, however, which was a versatility that a Dauntless does not have. They must choose between either one weapon system or the other; the Indomitable' lances are also more powerful than most light cruiser's weapons, more akin to a cruiser's lances in power. In addition, the Indomitable mounts four dorsal laser-based weapons batteries, as opposed to the Dauntless' two.

Behind the bridge, one would also see a heavily upgraded communications and scanning array, which could reliably transmit and receive data from a great distance.

The ship also had a small hangar bay set towards the rear of the vessel, large enough to hold several landing craft, such as Aquila Landers or the hangar's current occupant, a Thunderhawk gunship.

However, the exterior differences paled in comparison to the massive difference in internal structure.

One such change was the inclusion of massive storage hangars throughout the ship which were used to hold the provisions and supplies for the crew on long survey missions. These storage areas were able to be included due to the automation of many of the ship's functions which would normally be conducted my hundreds of human crewmen, from maintaining the engines to changing cooling cells for the lance batteries to loading torpedoes. These systems allow the ship to function with a far smaller crew than a ship of its size would normally need; a mere thirty thousand, compared to the sixty-five to seventy thousand crew members a light cruiser would normally need.

These same systems had been installed on the other ships of the fleet, and as such the total crew of all six ships was under half what it would normally be.

Now, all of these observations would, of course, only be possible if one could see the ships, which the captains seemed to want to avoid. All six ships had pitch-black armor plating, and the exposed steel of the ships were allowed to accumulate a layer of grime and dust which dulled the shine of the metal. In addition, unlike most void ships, vessels of the fleet ran only the bare minimum of external lights, keeping most of the exterior of the ships in darkness.

The only exceptions to both these rules were the names of the vessels, and the large faction marker that each ship proudly displayed just behind their prows.

Built into the armor behind the prows of each ship was a large capital I made of gleaming steel, with a marble skull set into the center.

Above these markers were the names of the ship, written in shining silver paint, which had been chipped and scuffed by the harshness of the void and the terms of their services.

The Firestorms were the _Black Revenge_ and _White Execution_ , sister-vessels that had fought together for over four centuries. The Sword class was the named the Guardian _of Faith_ , which had once single-handedly defended an Ecclesiarchy Space-Temple from a small fleet of Orkish raiders. Its Claymore companions were the _Watchful Gaze_ and the _Steady Hand_ , which had stood guard over Cadia during the 11th black crusade.

And the Indomitable, flagship of the fleet, was _His Silent Blade_ , the personal vessel of Lord Inquisitor Marthas Devinir. This vessel, recovered from the scrap yards of Saturn, had been used by agents of the Inquisition since the late 37th millennium, passed down from mentor to apprentice to continue the holy work of the Inquisition.

These ships, old and battle worn all, were not in this empty system for no reason.

Today, they were hunting; and after almost two years of tracking and chasing, they had finally closed with their prey.

…

 _Knockknockknock._

A sharp rapping on the door of his quarters roused Inquisitor Marthas from his slumber. Almost instantly he was wide awake, senses on high alert, wary for any potential danger.

On reflex, his hand snapped to the snub-nosed auto pistol in a holster welded to the underside of his bed, his hand settling easily into the familiar, worn grip.

A moment passed, and Marthas relaxed as he remembered where he was; in his bedchamber on the _Silent Blade_. He sat up in his bed and stretched his arms, shaking his shoulders to wring out the few kinks he had developed in his short rest.

He grimaced as he felt something pop around his shoulder blade, and then chuckled a little to himself.

 _At my age, I should be ecstatic that all I have to deal with are stiff joints and the odd pop. Thank the Emperor for Juvinant._

 _ **Knockknockknock**_.

Again, someone rapped on his door, this time a little bit more forcefully. Marthas got out of his well built but simple bed and walked quickly to the door.

He hit the control panel next to the door and it slid open to reveal a young bridge-officer, Lieutenant...Albus, he believed, standing nervously in the hall, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

The man started as the door slid open, and then quickly gave a salute to the inquisitor.

"My lord! I apologize for disturbing you, but Captain Dracov wished to inform you that we shall be arriving at the target shortly, and wishes to have you present on the bridge."

Marthas' face remained blank while the thirty-something man delivered his message, but inside he was quite amused by the nervousness of the officer. Albus was hiding it quite well, but to the trained eyes of the Inquisitor, his trembling legs and sweat on his brow were a dead giveaway.

 _Incredible_ he thought suppressing a smile. _Despite having next to no interactions with me and the fact that I have never harmed a member of my crew, the simple title of Inquisitor is enough to make him fear me._

 _But then, that is how it should be,_ his thoughts continued, and then the corner of his mouth did rise ever so slightly.

"At ease Lieutenant. Thank you for the summons; tell the Captain I shall be there shortly."

The man nodded, his posture relaxing slightly as he bowed. "Of course, my lord." he said, and quickly made his exit, walking down the hall towards the bridge.

Marthas permitted himself a small chuckle, the turned back into his quarters, shutting the door behind him.

It did not take the Inquisitor long to get ready. He had slept in his normal clothing, a white dress shirt under a grey vest and black dress pants. His footwear, practical leather combat boots, had been left on, and his rosarius was still on its chain around his neck. It took Marthas less than two minutes to arm himself, attaching the holster for his sidearm, an ancient Volkite Serpenta, to the right side of his belt, and his Master-Crafted force sword _Brightest Day_ to his left. He then grabbed the signature piece of his wardrobe, a black trench coat with muted gold lining, and put it on before heading towards the bridge.

He passed a few other crewmembers on the way, each of them giving a small bow and a "my lord" as he passed. Marthas acknowledged their greetings with small nods, but did not halt his purposeful pace until he stepped through the doors into the bridge.

The bridge of _His Silent Blade_ was much like the bridge of any Imperial starship, shaped in a wide half-circle with several large armorglass viewports set into the front wall, which at the moment were covered by retractable armor plates in preparation for their impending warp jump.

There were a dozen control stations set around the room to monitor and control the various systems of the ship, including weapons, helm, engineering, auspex, and vox.

Unusual from most imperial bridges, all the stations were manned by humans; there was not a servitor in sight.

In fact, if you looked across the entire ship, indeed the entire fleet, you would find an almost disturbing lack of servitors. The only places you had any certainty of finding the lobotomized drones were the lifter-servitors in the cargo holds and hangars, or hardwired into many of the automated systems that made the low crew count possible.

This was mainly because the Inquisitor had an intense dislike of Servitors, and had forbidden their use on his ships except in the aforementioned sections, due to their necessity there.

In addition to the lack of servitors, the crew of the ships of Devinir's fleet consisted almost entirely of either ex-imperial guardsmen and PDF veterans or the descendants of volunteers from worlds he or one of his predecessors had rescued in years past. They lacked the usual armies of kidnapped citizens-turned-slaves who worked the worst jobs on an Imperial vessel, as those jobs were automated on his ships, and Marthas despised the practice in any case.

But I digress.

Directly to the right of the door was a spiral staircase which wound up into the ceiling and the Navigator's station. The stairs were guarded by a pair of veteran former Cadian Shock Troopers, and if one were to go up the stairs, they would find a small room with a locked adamantium door, guarded by two Inquisitorial Stormtroopers.

These guards duty was twofold; to protect the Navigator, and the bridge, from enemy boarders, and to eliminate the Navigator should they be possessed by a Neverborn.

These familiar sights were taken in passing as the bridge doors slid open for the Inquisitor.

Every head in the room turned as the door opened, and most quickly went back to looking at their various screens. Two, however, did not.

The first was Captain Dracov. The old captain's face was set in a calm, determined expression, the faint wrinkles around the man's eyes relaxed.

This was just another mission like any other to him, and he had every faith in his ship and his fellow captains. His violet eyes, a memento of his birth-world of Cadia, met the green eyes of Marthas for a moment, and the pair exchanged a silent greeting before he turned back to observing his bridge crew, the lights glinting faintly of his bronze-colored skin.

The second person was his apprentice, Interrogator Bethany Quiriam.

The young woman was garbed in a similar manner to her master, wearing a dark grey trench coat with a dark red lining. Unlike Marthas, she wore a suit of black Carapace armor over tan combat fatigues, causing her cost to swing open at the front, bearing the silver I of the Inquisition on her chest plate. One could also see that, like her mentor, she was armed, in this case with a hotshot laspistol and a modified power maul, a reminder of her days as a member of the Adeptus Arbites.

Bethany certainly looked good considering her previous and current profession. She had an attractive, teardrop-shaped face with a small nose, sharp chin, and thin lips; her skin was unmarred save for a small hook-shaped scar on her left cheek.

Her eyes were a warm brown color, which was at odds with the cold look that she usually gave with them. Her hair was a similar color, and worn in a short braid that fell down the back of her neck.

The woman nodded in greeting as her mentor entered. Marthas spared her a small smile as he moved to stand between the two.

The three stood for a moment in silence, letting the moment sink in, how close they were to finishing this chase once and for all.

Then Marthas broke the silence, all business. He looked at Dracov, his face pure detached professionalism. "Captain, do we have the coordinates for our jump?"

Dracov nodded. "Yes, my lord. The other vessels have been given their coordinates and are ready to proceed on your order."

"Good. Interrogator," he said, turning to Bethany. "Are kill-teams Osiris and Lothbrok ready for their portion of the mission?"

"Sergeant Osiris voxed me confirmation shortly before your arrival, and Squad Lothbrok is waiting in the teleportarium for your signal."

"Good." Marthas paused, the unexpectedly said "Which members of my Retinue do you think should accompany us into the enemy vessel?"

Bethany was surprised for a moment, but recovered quickly.

"My recommendation would be to leave operatives Lix and Mic behind and bring the twins."

"Why?"

Bethany knew now that this was a small test for her, and replied without pause.

"A sniper such as Mic would be greatly hampered by the close confines of a starship, and would be of negligible use. Lix specializes in infiltration, but while she could be useful if she snuck away and struck the enemy from an unexpected quarter, she would be completely separated from any support, and if she were caught by a group of enemies, it is unlikely she would be able to fight her way free alone."

"The twins are far more suited for such combat, being close-quarters specialists, and their... _unique_ abilities will allow us to deal with unexpected obstacles."

Marthas nodded in approval and gave her a small smile. "Excellent assessment, Bethany. I agree completely; have the twins head to the hangar."

Bethany felt a small flush of mischievous glee as she responded, "They are already there, master, on my order."

This Inquisitor simply regarded her with a raised eyebrow as Dracov let out a hearty laugh. "It appears you have underestimated your pupil, my lord."

"Indeed." Marthas said, amused. Then he returned to seriousness. "It seems that all is ready then. Captain, begin preparations for warp transition."

"Eye-eye." Dracov said, then strode to the center of the bridge and the gold-plated chair that sat there. The old captain easily settled into his command throne and attached a cluster of wires to a data-port set into the base of his skull. He closes his eyes and seems to concentrate.

After a few moments, Dracov tensed up, and then relaxed. "Connection established my lord. Connecting to the other captains now." he said.

A small hatch set before the command throne opens up, and a holo-table emerges from the floor. It powered up and soon a small holographic representation of the fleet was suspended above the table.

One after another, a holographic image of the other ship's captains appeared above their ships as Dracov connected them to the system.

The first, as always, was Captain Yerral Sacco of the _Guardian of Faith._

"The _Guardian_ is ready to jump, milord. Just give us the word." Yerral said, his voice giving just a hint of the drawl he had worked for years to be rid of.

Next were captains Isabella and Victoria Partia, the sister captains of the _Black Revenge_ and the _White Execution_.

"Black is ready, standing by." Said the posh voice of Isabella.

"White is ready, awaiting orders." Said the slightly younger, but still aristocratic sounding Victoria.

Lastly was the captain of the _Watchful Gaze_ , Rolbert Turin, and shortly after the captain of the _Steady Hand_ , the young Felicia Viron.

"My gaze is turned outwards, ready for battle." Said the gruff voice of captain Rolbert.

"We are prepared and ready to jump, my lord." Said the quiet, yet confident Felicia.

Dracov looked expectantly at the Inquisitor, who looked up towards the ceiling as he opened up a vox line to the navigator's station.

"My lady, shall we proceed?"

"The heretics are in my vision, like a black sore upon the great sea. Let us purge them." A sharp, accented voice replied, filled with anger towards their quarry.

Marthas looked back to Dracov.

"We are ready. Take us in."

Dracov nodded, and then spoke, his voice booming out of the speakers set into the ceiling of the bridge, and throughout the entirety of the _Silent Blade,_ "All hands, begin preparations for warp transition. Repeat, prepare for warp transition."

Marthas half heard similar commands coming from his other captains, as he was already thinking about the battle to come.

It had been two years since the Dark Apostle Werod Gerakas had stolen the Derixan Scroll from the hive-world Feros. Two years of hunting, of conflicts and treachery, casualties and horrors, but now they had him. This was it.

They would kill this bastard, or die trying.

"It is time to end this." He whispered to himself.

Beside him, Bethany's face was like stone, grim determination set into her hardened features, her hand clenched around the handle of her power maul. "Agreed my lord." She hissed.

…

In the darkness of space, six ships silently slid through the void.

Suddenly, six rifts, tears in the fabric of reality, swirling vortexes of every colour in the universe appeared before the prows of these vessels.

One after another, the vessels approached the rents and were grasped by tentacles of raw warp energy and pulled into the madness of the immaterium, on wrought to a conflict long brewing, and a destiny few had foreseen.

 _ **A/N: This was less than what I wanted to put in the chapter, but it was reaching my usual chapter word limit,, so I decided to just put it up.**_

 _ **Thanks again for reading, following and favouriting. Reviews, both good and bad, are always appreciated.**_

 _ **Until the next instalment,**_

Imperator senatus et populi Romani Dinosaurs!


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Here we go.**_

Chapter 3

 _I was taught all my life that all xenos were either self-serving, selfish, greedy opportunists who would use and abandon mankind as it suited them, or monsters that wanted nothing more than to drag humanity into bloody, violent oblivion. It was not until I met Reyalla that I ever considered otherwise, and it would be years still past that before I realized the truth: that some aliens are much the same as us, and can be valuable allies against those which truly are monsters. And even longer after that realization I found that, given enough time and near-death experiences, it is possible to achieve something close to friendship with the ones I once hated above all else._

 _-Lord Inquisitor Marthas Devinir, in his autobiography,_ In the Shadows.

 _Year 2183, Planet Virmire, AA battery #12_

A small rain shower had just passed over as the white-armored geth shock trooper emerged from the control room of the anti-aircraft guns on its usual patrol rout.

The flooring of the exterior walkway was somewhat slippery, so the synthetic moved slightly slower to ensure that its platform would remain stable. Its visual processor scanned the rocky walls and sandy beach of the surrounding area for possible threats, but picked up nothing on either infrared, thermal, or regular visual frequencies.

Within the hardware of the platform, 1317 geth programs were, while directing their body on its sentry duties, also debating a matter most interesting, at least to them.

Earlier in the day, their platform had observed a pair of the large crab-like organisms that were commonplace on this part of the planet set a rudimentary trap using a large rock, a stick, and a piece of dead fish. This trap was used to capture and kill a small rodent-like mammal that the pair had then shared.

The programs were debating whether this behavior showed evidence of rudimentary sentience in the crabs, or whether it was the same simple tool-making behavior seen in thousands of complex organisms throughout the galaxy.

The debate had started out relatively even, with 655 programs on the side of Yes, and 662 on the side of No. Now however, the advantage went to the No side, with 711 programs versus 606 on the Yes side.

The No group was just rallying for a final argument when a loud _bang!_ rang out and the platform's shields were obliterated.

Immediately, all the programs snapped into combat protocols, the shock trooper raising its pulse rifle as the single lens of its visual processor scanned for and found the source of the shot, a human woman with a sniper rifle who was taking cover behind a large boulder around twenty meters from the walkway.

The Geth let out a growling burst of binary to the other platforms guarding the guns as it returned fire, plasma-coated metal slugs hyper-accelerating out of the barrel of the rifle to flicker against the shield of the human combatant.

The woman ducked behind her rock as the fire stripped away a portion of her shields. The shock trooper heard the sounds of several footsteps coming from its right, but their IFFs quickly IDed as fellow geth.

Another crack of a sniper rifle rang out, this time from a position above and to the left of the suppressed human. To the left of the shock trooper one of its reinforcements had its 'head' blown off as another sniper round punched through the troopers shields and ripped off its visual processor, critically damaging the platform.

The shock trooper saw that this shot had come from a blue armored turian who was lying on a small ledge up on the side of one of the large stone pillars that littered the area around Saren's base.

The shock trooper let out another binary burst advising the two remaining platforms to concentrate fire on the second sniper. The pair sent return bursts of confirmation as they opened fire on the turians position.

They had not been firing for ten seconds when an asari appeared from behind a boulder fifteen meters from their position.

One of the troopers tried to shift its fire to the asari, but before it could re-target her body glowed with a blue aura and she hurled an orb of biotic energy at their position.

The shock trooper attempted to evade the biotic attack, as did the other two troopers, but when the sphere hit the wall behind them it exploded into a swirling biotic singularity which pulled the three platforms in, leaving them suspended helpless in the air.

The asari proceeded to pull a pistol from her waist and riddle one of the other platforms with rounds, while the two snipers fired into the other, destroying it.

Knowing that the white platforms' destruction was imminent, the 1317 programs inhabiting it left, abandoning the platform and uploading themselves into one of the geth ships in orbit over the planet.

As such, when the hail of pistol and sniper rounds tore the shock trooper apart, it was nothing but an empty shell.

…

Jane Shepard let out a slow breath as she lowered the scope of her sniper rifle from her eye.

She glanced over towards Liara, who still had her pistol raised towards the walkway that the team had just forcibly vacated a squad of geth troopers from. Jane scanned the walkway for further movement, but saw nothing. Still, she was not one to take unnecessary risks, so she opened up a line to the other members of her squad.

"Either of you see any more geth?" she said quietly, her eyes still scanning the walkway.

"Negative, I've got nothing. It looks clear." said Garrus.

"I agree. I cannot see any more geth. Shall we push up?" Said Liara.

"Affirmative. Garrus, switch to your AR and meet us on the walkway." Jane said, storing her rifle on her back as she moved out of cover, drawing her pistol as she did so.

Liara advanced alongside her, and Shepard spared her a glance before turning her attention back to the walkway.

They were approaching a ladder that led up to the construction. When they reached it, Jane scrambled up quickly, reaching the top just as Garrus dropped onto the walkway from above, assault rifle at the ready, having used a small rocky ledge to reach the position.

The two waited a moment for Liara to climb up the ladder, then slowly began to advance towards the control room.

Jane was slightly ahead of the other two, with Garrus in the center and Liara at the rear. The squad quickly reached the end of the walkway and stacked up beside the door leading into the gun complex.

Jane held up a hand for her allies to wait, then slowly peeked around the edge of the open door. She saw a short hallway that led into, from what she could see, a large open room with several control consoles inside.

She leaned back and looked at her alien companions.

"Alright, I can't see any hostiles in there," she said quietly, "but that room looks like a control center. So here's the plan: I'll go in first, and you two follow a few seconds after me and wait near the door. If there are hostiles in the room, I'll get into position to flank them and give two clicks over the comms. That will be your signal to come in guns blazing."

Her squadmates did not respond, simply nodding their understanding and readying their weapons.

Shepard took a deep breath to calm herself slightly, then activated her tactical cloak and moved into the hallway.

As Shepard moved silently towards the open doorway she heard a slight scraping noise, like metal on metal. Her expression turned grim as she moved through the door to see that, indeed, there were Geth lying in wait for the rest of her team.

To either side of the door were geth troopers, in addition to a shotgun-armed geth destroyer waiting for the enemy to show themselves. There was also one of those thrice-damned geth stalkers stuck to the ceiling, just waiting to nail someone with it's cursed sniper-weapon.

 _Well, today I'll be surprising you, bastard._ Shepard thought maliciously as she moved across the room, her upgraded cloak making her all but invisible to the naked eye.

She took cover behind a console, waited a moment, then gave the signal to her teammates, tossing a grenade at the stalker as she did so.

The disk flew through the air and magnetically attached itself to the ceiling right beside the stalker's head.

The machine barely had the time to whir in confusion before the grenade detonated, obliterating the stalker as drawing the attention of the other geth in the room.

Liara chose that moment to drop a singularity on the floor just beyond the door frame, dragging the two troopers out of their concealed positions just in time for Garrus' rifle to fill them with rounds, joined by the sharp retort of Liara's pistol.

The destroyer, seeing itself as the last geth standing, moved to enter the hallway, where its shotgun would be able to do the most damage.

However, Shepard was not going to let that happen.

She rose from cover with her omnitool activated, and with a gesture sent an overload program flying at the destroyer.

The geth staggered as the program ripped apart its shields and overheated its weapon, leaving it helpless as Shepard opened fire into the machine's back. The destroyer jerked as the tiny metal slugs ripped through its form before collapsing to a broken heap on the floor.

Garrus moved into the room, rifle raised and sweeping for more hostiles. Seeing none, he lowered his weapon and stepped over the destroyer, shooting Shepard an impressed look.

"Well, that went well." He said dryly, stowing his AR as he moved to the controls.

"Yes, that was very well done." Liara agreed as she entered behind him, her eyes looking curiously about the room as they always did when she found herself somewhere new.

"Well, this is just the first hurdle. Don't get too confident." Shepard said sternly, getting to work alongside Garrus. She couldn't help but crack a grin as she continued, "But that was a pretty awesome breach."

Garrus glanced at her. "Well, I don't know if I'd call it a 'breach' myself. After all, you were already inside when the attack started, and there wasn't actually a door to breach"

Shepard raised an eyebrow as she looked at Garrus incredulously. "Seriously? Just because I was attacking from a different angle doesn't mean it's not breaching! And who says you need a door? Liara, back me up here."

"Actually, I have to agree with Garrus. That was more of a pincer attack than a breach."

Shepard looked back and forth between her two teammates for a few moments, until she noticed that Garrus was laughing quietly and Liara was grinning in amusement. The redhead feigned anger at the realization of her squadmates teasing, but was soon chuckling along with them.

"You guys are assholes, you know that?" Jane said lightly.

"Yep, but we're _your_ assholes; and you're going to be stuck with us for the rest of your life." Garrus said.

As he finished that sentence, the screens on various consoles around the room flashed red for a moment and then deactivated, followed by a cessation of the constant humming the machinery around them had been making as the system shut down.

Shepard turned her gaze back to the console in front of her, one of the few still active, and nodded with satisfaction.

"That's it, the gun's offline. Let's head back to the Mako and meet the Normandy at the salarian camp.

The other two nodded and moved to exit the room as Jane raised a hand to her helmet, activating her comms to the ship as she followed her alien comrades.

"Joker, the AA gun is down. You should have a clear shot at the base now."

" _Roger that Commander, I just saw the guns' signature go dark. I'll head for the STG base now. See you there. Normandy out."_

Shepard deactivated the com and hurried to catch up with Garrus and Liara, thinking to herself, _despite my misgivings, this mission has been going really well. With any luck, we won't hit any snags._

Shepard winced slightly as this thought crossed her mind.

 _Damn, I hope I didn't just jinx it._

…

 _M 40, Y 984, Segmentum Tempestus, Unnamed system_

"Brace for impact!"

The words had barely left the mouth of the helmsman before explosions rocked the vessel, knocking most of the standing members of the bridge crew from their feet, and causing the logistics terminal to catch fire, panicking the operator as his jumpsuit caught fire briefly.

One of the few members of the crew left standing was a woman wearing a long, flowing robe of a deep purple, highlighted at the neck, cuffs, and hem with a lighter, almost lilac color.

She also wore a chest plate made of elegant, flowing material jet black in color and decorated with silver inlays, swirls and runes that flowed together artfully, as well as a single deep-green jewel set into the center.

Attached to the front of a simple lilac belt, as well as several leather pouches and a holstered pistol, was a tabard that echoed her chest armor's color scheme, black and edged with silver, with a white rune on it, appearing to be a stylized humanoid figure caught mid-dance.

Sweeping up behind the woman, framing her head, were two wing-like constructions that were attached to the back of her chest plate. Beneath her robe she wore a black bodysuit, which covered all of her body up to her neck, leaving only the woman's head exposed.

Her features were, by human measure, near-perfect; with elegant bone-structure, flawless, glowing skin, beautiful amber eyes, and well kept, silky platinum-blonde hair which she wore in a long braid that reached down between her shoulder blades. She was a quite tall for a female, standing at six foot eleven inches tall, but that could be waved off.

However, her inhumanly graceful movements, and long, pointed ears showed that the woman was not a human, but an Eldar, and more so her garb and the leaf-bladed spear she grasped in her hand marked her out as a farseer, one of the most powerful and respected individuals in Eldar society.

"Farseer, are you alright?"

The psyker looked over to where the Captain of the ship, a relatively young male named Teriss Vakoll, had quickly regained his feet and was nervously making his way towards her, worried for the safety of his superior.

"I am fine, captain. I would suggest you focus on the battle." She replied, her voice carrying the barest hint of disapproval in its tone, so small that a human would likely have missed it. However, to an eldar, it was a blatant reproach for his lack of discipline and professionalism on the bridge.

The captain's face paled and he quickly turned away, calling out, "Status report! What's the damage?"

His first mate turned from her console to look at the captain, her expression grim. "The holoshields diverted most of the enemy fire, but we've still taken serious damage."

She turned back to her holoscreen and began swiping through the various damage reports, listing them off as she dismissed them.

"A lance strike hit the lower solar sail, and we've lost a quarter of our speed. Two torpedoes hit near the forward pulse lance battery, so we've lost half of our forward armaments. In addition, a stray boarding torpedo hit near the rear of the ship, more by chance than anything. The Harlequins responded quickly and slaughtered the cultists, but not before the boarders damaged the rear portside holo-array, so we should avoid displaying that section to the enemy. We have fires and minor hull breaches on several decks, but those are being handled."

Captain Teriss let out a breath he had not realized he was holding; the damage was considerable, but it was nothing critical, and the ship was still quite combat-capable.

"What of the _Mon'key_ vessels?" He asked. _Hopefully the damage we suffered was worth it,_ He thought.

It was the sensor officer who answered this time, "We were able to destroy or disable all of their raider-sized vessels, and one of the frigates. The other two enemy frigates are chasing our escorts and should be dealt with shortly." He paused, then spoke again with grim satisfaction. "Correction, one enemy frigate is fleeing from our escorts. The other has been destroyed."

"Good. What of the enemy flagship?" Teriss said.

"Unfortunately, our weapons have had minimal effect on that monstrosity; the shields held for the most part, warp damn them, and the hull we did hit seemed to... _absorb_ the damage."

 _By Vaul's hammer, what will it take to kill this thing?_ Captain Teriss though, a sliver of fear making its way into his thoughts.

"The vessel is still on course for the _Isha's Dreams,_ captain," the sensor operator continued.

Instantly, the Captain squashed that fear and took control. He glanced at his tactical display and quickly determined a plan of attack. "Tell the _Voidstriker_ and the _Swiftblade_ to circle around behind the enemy vessel. The _Deathdancer_ can take care of that last frigate. We'll try and draw the enemy vessel away from _Isha's Dreams_ and…"

"Captain!" The sensor officer called out, interrupting Teriss, "I've detected six warp-rifts that have opened fifteen thousand kilometers behind and below the enemy vessel!"

 _Shit._ Thought the captain. "Chaos reinforcements?" he asked, his voice filled with trepidation.

The sensor officer opened his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted.

"No."

The voice of the Farseer rang out through the bridge. All eyes turned to her as she strode from her position at the rear of the bridge until she stood before the viewscreen of the bridge, her eyes locked on the six violet rips in the fabric of reality.

As soon as the rifts had appeared, she had sensed it. A psychic signature that was unmistakably powerful and annoyingly familiar.

 _Of course, it_ _ **would**_ _be him._ She thought with equal parts irritation and relief.

"Farseer?" The captain's questioning voice broke into her thoughts. "Who is it, if not Chaos?"

She did not turn, and so none of the bridge crew saw her usually stoic expression crack into a small smile as she answered.

"Imperials."

...

 _His Silent Blade_ roared from the warp at full combat readiness, void shields raised and weapons primed. The _White Execution_ and _Black Revenge_ emerged around 900 kilometers ahead to the port and starboard, somehow having switched positions somewhere in the warp, and the escort-wing with the _Guardian of Faith_ and her corvette charges a few thousand beyond that.

On the bridge of the _Blade_ , Marthas quickly looked over the holographic display of the combat area, and could not help but be surprised.

 _I must say, this is unexpected._ He thought.

Of Gerakas' original eleven ship fleet, only his flagship, the _Eternal Adoration,_ remained; ten dead hulks and expanding debris fields all that marked the dying places of his raider and frigate escort-craft.

The cause for the destruction of the chaos vessels was a quartet of eldar starships which bore the colors of craftworld Dan-Varr, a trio of one-point-three kilometer frigates which had just finished off the last chaos frigate and were circling around to attack the _Eternal Adoration_ from the rear, and a four-point-eight kilometer long light cruiser which was currently trying to divert the implacable advance of the Chaotic Grand-cruiser on the most unexpected vessel in the sector.

An Eldar Craftmoon.

The massive vessel looked like a miniature version of the titanic craftworlds that the majority of the remaining eldar population inhabit. It was over fifty kilometers in length from nose to stern, and around twenty kilometers wide. Through the massive transparent dome that covered the top of the vessel, one would see scattered woodlands and large swaths of farmland surrounding a (relatively) small city.

Craftmoons were normally seen in twos and threes accompanying craftworlds, used to provide surplus food in addition to that grown on the main ship, as well as acting in a similar role to their namesake celestial bodies, orbiting the craftworld and giving a comfort to its inhabitants.

The fact that this vessel bore the colors of Dan-Varr, like its escorts, did not bode well for its parent craftworld.

 _No time to worry about that now_. Marthas though. _Stop Gerakas first, then you can deal with the eldar_.

The Imperial ships found themselves in an ideal position, behind and below the enemy vessel, and completely outside of its firing arcs.

An advantage Marthas planned to make maximum use of.

"Captain, have strike group secundus move up into range of their weapons batteries. They should hit the enemy vessel from the opposite side to the approaching eldar frigates."

"Yes my lord." Dracov said, and Marthas saw the forward formation break off and begin to swing up and around behind the chaotic vessel. "What of us?" Dracov asked.

"Bring the _Blade_ and the firestorms up into lance range and prepare to fire. In addition, load up a pair of Valem's new torpedoes and get them ready to launch."

"Aye. We'll be in lance range in five minutes."

Now, as was usually the case in void warfare, they would have to wait. This was something that the history texts and propaganda vids didn't' talk about; just how _long_ space combat took. Of course, when you looked at the distances involved, it made sense, but that logic did nothing to make the tension of waiting any less.

Of course the bridge crew, veterans of dozens of conflicts, were used to the waiting that came with ship-on-ship combat. Only two people on the bridge seemed to be anxious about the waiting; Comms Officer Albus, and Interrogator Quiriam.

Marthas, who was watching the holotable intently, sensed more than saw his apprentice shift uncomfortably, and he barely had to access his powers to sense the waves of unease and impatience rolling off of her through the warp.

Marthas sighed quietly at his students impatience and tapped into his telepathy, touching the surface of Bethany's mind.

 _Beth_ , Marthas thought at her, and he felt her start with surprise at the foreign voice in her head; he couldn't help feeling some amusement at that.

There was a flare of warp energy behind him as Bethany tapped into her own powers to establish a tenuous connection with him (Telepathy was not her strong suit).

 _I asked you to stop doing that._ She thought/said, annoyed.

 _And I said no._ Marthas replied, unconcerned with her annoyance. _Why are you so uncomfortable?_

Bethany fidgeted mentally. _It is just...the waiting. Gerakas is_ _ **right there**_ _, but we-_ _ **I**_ _-cannot do anything about it because this ship is so damn slow._

Marthas gave a mental headshake. _Bethany, this is the way of void combat. You must learn to be patient, use the time that it takes to complete maneuvers to plan ahead, to try and predict your opponent's actions and reactions, and counter them. Void combat is like a giant game of regicide: you must always be thinking three steps ahead of your foe._

His apprentice sent a complaint feeling through their link. _Of course, my lord._

Marthas decided to relent at that point. _I can understand your eagerness, Bethany. Let us see if we cannot distract you until battle is joined._

The Inquisitor severed the link, their conversation having taken only a few seconds, and said to Dracov, "Captain, can you bring up a magnified image of the _Eternal Adoration_ on the main screen?"

"Of course my lord." He said, and with a thought brought up an enhanced image of their target on the bridge's main screen.

As the image of the vessel resolved itself, many members of the crew muttered expletives under their breaths, and a few of the more devout, Bethany included, made the sign of the Aquila as they laid eyes on the corrupted vessel.

While the _Everlasting Adoration_ may once have been a Massacre-class grand cruiser, it was now both far less and far more. While it still retained the general shape of the ancient class, as well as the eight-kilometer length, it was now changed almost beyond recognition by the 'blessings' of the Warp.

The hull of the vessel was covered in dozens of places by fleshy growths, which crawled, expanded and retracted as the imperials watched, growing the odd tentacle, mouth or eye before absorbing these growths back into the growths.

In some places, the metal of the outer hull seemed to have fused with the demonic flesh, becoming the notoriously durable material known as fleshmetal. These sections seemed to pulse with life, expanding and retracting as if in response to breathing, or showing giant veins pulsing with black ichor that flowed to an unholy heartbeat, as if the ship was no longer merely steel and wiring, but a great living beast.

At the bow of the ship, where the main lance battery would normally be, there was a great round 'mouth', lined with hundreds of giant teeth the size of thunderhawk gunships. As the bridge crew of the _Blade_ watched, a disconcerting greenish-purple glow began to emit from this mouth, and a moment later five distinct beams of light, three the sickly green of Chaos lances, two the vibrant purple of condensed warp-energy, lanced forth from the cavity to strike at the eldar cruiser, which dove nimbly to avoid the attack.

The eldar vessel used the evasion to get itself into perfect position for a close range attack run on the _Adoration_. From its prow flickered two streams of pure-white laserfire as it opened up with its main pulse lance battery, and they could see a dozen trails of fire streaking through the void as the vessel launched a close-range torpedo barrage.

The Imperials watched with baited breath as the fire from the alien vessel struck their target. Void shield sprung to life as the lance fire hit, crackling and sparking for a moment as they absorbed the majority of the laser fire. Only the last few pulses from the eldar lances broke through, cutting into the thick armor of the mutated cruiser and doing little more than surface damage.

The torpedoes struck soon after, and though four were destroyed by fire from the _Adoration's_ point-defense weapons, the eight that impacted did considerably more damage than the pulse lances.

Eight miniature suns bloomed on the flank of the grand cruiser as the plasma warheads detonated. As the light faded, Marthas saw that the torpedoes had left large, blackened holes in the exterior of the ship, in some instances showing the corrupted interior of the vessel.

A few of the bridge crew let out short cheers at the damage caused to the enemy vessel, only to quickly fall silent as they remembered the strike was done by a xeno vessel. Then, as they watched, something disturbing happened.

Before their very eyes, the steel and daemonic flesh of the corrupted ship began to ripple and flow, slowly but surely knitting together the damage caused by the plasma explosions.

"By the Emperor…" Mathas heard one crewman whisper in horror and disgust. Across the bridge, many of the crew were giving similar sentiments of horror and disgust, but Marthas was simply intrigued.

And a touch concerned.

"It would appear that the dark gods have given the _Adoration_ two additional lance analogs. And the ability to repair itself, to a limited degree. That level of alteration does not bode well for what the interior of the ship will be like." Marthas said quietly to himself. He raised his voice slightly and turned to Bethany. "Interrogator, your thoughts on a boarding strategy?"

The young woman tore her gaze away from the abomination on the main screen to look at her master, her shocked mind taking a moment to process his question.

"Uh…" She stammered slightly, still a little offput by the sight of the chaotic starship. However, she forced herself to study the enemy ship, and after a minute or so formed a response.

"The area around the bridge looks considerably less corrupted than the rest of the vessel. I would suggest that we enter in that region. Also," she paused, "I would suggest that brother Sar'al and brother Gorvax bring heavy flamers as opposed to their usual armaments, as I feel that copious amounts of cleansing fire will be needed on board that ship." She finished, making the sign of the Aquilla for good measure as she turned from the image on screen.

Marthas only nodded, but he was proud of the assessment. _Exactly what I would have done. She is turning out quite well, all things considered._

"My lord." The weapons officer called out, drawing the Inquisitors attention. "We are 15 seconds from lance range, and combat group secundus is almost in range for their weapon batteries. Orders?"

Marthas returned his attention to the battle; the time of waiting had passed.

"All vessels are to target the engine sections of the ship. We will fire first to weaken the void shields; then, group secundus shall fire everything they can at the section we've weakened. The _Retribution_ and the _Execution_ are to hold fire until the void shields fall, then strike the engines of the enemy vessel. The instant the shields fail, I want us to launch both torpedoes."

"Aye aye!" Several voices across the bridge called out, as hands flew across consoles to make the Inquisitor's instructions reality.

Ten seconds passed.

"We are in lance range, Inquisitor." Dracov said quietly.

Marthas felt a savage grin spread across his face.

"Fire." He snarled.

...

At the bow of _His Silent Blade_ , beneath the armored prow, a trio of long, metal cylinders began collecting power. In a few seconds, their barrels went from cold grey to burning red as incredible thermal energy collected, just waiting to be unleashed.

And with the press of a button over four kilometers away, that energy was released.

Three red-orange beams of light slashed from the lances towards their distant target, the incredibly powerful lasers containing capable of spearing planets and blasting cities from existence.

And yet, they were stopped a mere two hundred meters from their target by the crackling, struggling form of the _Adoration's_ rear void shields, the strike stripping away a half dozen layers of the defensive shields; they held in place, but only barely.

The battered defenses of the chaos vessel would receive no respite though, for just as the last of the energy from the lances of _His Silent Blade_ was absorbed and dissipated, a volley of smaller laser impacts battered the vessel.

It was the _Guardian of Faith_ , as well as the _Watchful Gaze_ and the _Steady_ _Hand_. They blasted away at the grand cruiser with their dorsal, turret mounted weapons batteries. All three ships mounted laser based weapons batteries, either double or triple barreled Hephaestus-pattern Volcano Cannons, more powerful versions of the weapons used on titans and Shadowsword superheavy tanks.

Even against this barrage, the grand cruiser's ancient shields held, bolstered by the unholy energy of the dozens of Neverborn that inhabited her massive steel body, and turrets set near the rear of the ship turned to return fire of the vessels that plagued them.

However, just as it seemed that the chaotic vessel would recover, the Eldar arrived.

The _Voidstriker_ and the _Swiftblade_ had seen the course the imperials were taking, and had maneuvered themselves to reach their mutual foe at the same time as their makeshift allies, strafing the enemy _Endless Adoration_ with blasts of plasma and laser bolts from their more advanced weapon batteries.

This was, as the saying goes, the stick that broke the grox's back. With a bright flash, the last layer of void shields shattered, a few stray bolts of plasma searing the hull as the eldar frigates sped away.

Then, two more bolts of orange light pierced the darkness of space, and this time the Imperial lances would not be denied.

The first beam, that of the _White Execution_ , struck the port-side engine, carving through millennia-old metal, starting a chain reaction of explosions that crippled the engine, causing the engine to sputter and die.

The second beam, that of the _Black Revenge_ , struck the far engine, traveling part of the way into the massive construction before piercing the hull, melting dozens of critical systems to slag and near-instantly disabling the other engine.

Now crippled, the massive starship finally seemed to recognize the threat posed by the Imperial starships. It began to turn, ponderous and slow, trying to bring its batteries to bear on the escorts, and shield its vulnerable rear from further attack.

But before it could move more than a few degrees through its turn, the pair of torpedoes fired by _His Silent Blade_ impacted the rear of the ship.

These were not the usual explosive, melta, plasma, or even boarding torpedoes used by many imperial starships. These were a custom built (and slightly heretical) design based on a technology used by many races throughout the galaxy, be it the EMP grenades of the Tau, the Arc Weapons of the Mechanicus, or the Haywire Cannons used by Eldar Harlequins.

Weaponised Electricity. In this case, an electromagnetic pulse.

When the haywire torpedoes impacted, they unleashed massive explosions of azure lightning that arched across the surface of the ship, shirting out systems and causing smaller, more conventional explosions where they overloaded power sources or storage devices.

In moments, the _Everlasting Adoration_ was left as a floating, powerless hulk, with barely any damage having been done to it whatsoever.

...

The bridge of _His Silent Blade_ erupted in cheers as the enemy vessel was rendered powerless by their torpedo strike.

Marthas had a satisfied smirk on his face as he gazed around the bridge. He met the gaze of Captain Dracov, who was also smiling slightly, and nodded to him.

"Well done, old friend. Give my commendations to the other captains."

"Thank you, Marthas. I will."

"Master."

Marthas turned to see that his apprentice was standing by the door to the bridge, attempting to keep a serious expression on her face, but failing to hide a small smile. "We must move quickly if we are to capitalize on the enemy's confusion. I suggest we make haste for the hangar."

Marthas nodded and turned back to Dracov. "Captain, you have the bridge…"

Whatever Marthas was about to say was cut off as the comms officer shouted out.

"Inquisitor! The eldar cruiser is hailing us!"

This immediately piqued Devenir's interest. In his experience, when aided by imperial forces, eldar ships tended to try and leave as soon as the foe was destroyed, fearing attack from their momentary allies. Rare was the instance when they attempted to communicate with imperial vessels.

"Put it onscreen." Marthas said, stepping forwards.

"But, master, Gerakas…" Beathay began.

"...will still be on his ship in five minutes after I hear what the eldar want. Patience, Interrogator."

Bethany fumed, but nodded and stopped talking.

The main screen of the bridge changed, turning from the image of the disabled chaos vessel to a view of a bright, orderly room, the walls curved and elegant, the crew similarly so. The majority of the screen was taken up by the face and torso of a stunning eldar woman, who gazed sternly at the human bridge crew until her gaze fell upon Marthas, when her face softened ever so slightly.

"Inquisitor Devinir. I thought I recognized this ramshackle fleet from somewhere." The eldar said, her voice lilting and musical.

"Farseer Reyalla. Always a pleasure to see you, and save you from some chaotic force or another."

The farseer's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. "You did not 'save' us, Inquisitor, we had the situation well under control." She said, her voice superior.

"Of course, my lady." Marthas said, bowing sarcastically. The farseer let out something like a snort, but far more regal. The Inquisitor grinned, then straightened, his face entirely serious.

"In any case, thank you for your assistance, Inquisitor." The farseer said, finally relenting enough to acknowledge their help.

"No issue farseer, we have been hunting this vessel and its master for some time now. We plan to board the vessel to try and retrieve an artifact the captain stole some time ago, as well as ensure his death. If you have any warriors to spare, we would greatly appreciate…"

"Uh, Inquisitor? the _Everlasting Adoration_ just sent us a message, text only." The comms officer interrupted.

Marthas shot the man a withering glare, and simply said, "Onscreen."

He turned back, very annoyed, to see that Reyalla's feed had moved to the side, and the message from the chaos vessel was now shown on screen.

It read;

 _You think you have won, Inquisitor, but the Dark Gods shall have their due. The Dark Prince will feast on these xeno souls, and I shall be exalted for dragging you screaming to their feet. For the glory of Chaos Undivided!_

Marthas got a confused look of his face as he read the message.

 _How does he plan to do any of this? We disabled his ship…_

"Lord Inquisitor!" The auspex officer called out, her voice tinged with fear. "I've detected an anomaly within the enemy ship. It...it seems a warp-rift has opened."

Marthas' eyes widened as realization hit him. _He's...he's going to…_

"Inquisitor?"

Dracov's questioning, uncertain voice pulled him from his shock.

"ALL SHIPS, RAISE GELLAR FIELDS NOW!" Mathas roared, startling the entire crew. "Maximum speed away from the _Adoration_ now! All ships, GET AWAY FROM THAT VESSEL!" The tone of desperation and panic in his voice sent the crew scrambling to action, hands flying across consoles.

Marthas watched desperately as his ships began to turn away from the _Endless Adoration_ ; slowly, far too slowly.

"Master? What's happening?" Bethany's concerned, slightly frightened voice broke into Marthas' thoughts.

"Indeed, what is the meaning of this Inquisitor?" Farseer Reyalla questioned, also concerned with the sudden change in the man's demeanor.

Devenir's head snapped around as the eldar spoke. "Farseer, you need to get your ships away from the enemy vessel. Gerakas is going to detonate his warp-core to try and destroy us both!"

The eldar's eyes widened in shock, then she turned and began shouting at her own crew in her native tongue. Then the screen went black as the line was terminated, and Marthas saw that the eldar vessels were also beginning to flee from the area, faster than the imperials, but still too slow, Marthas felt.

Then he sensed it, a building pulse within the warp' centered on the enemy ship.

"Master...what is this…" The Inquisitor turned to see that Bethany had fallen to her knees, clutching at her head. She looked at him, her face wracked with pain, and he saw that her eyes glowed with purple light, raw warp energy leaking from her.

He rushed to her side and called upon his powers to try and shield his apprentice from the building surge of energy. As he reached into the immaterium, feeling the predators of the warp screaming and clawing at his mental defenses, he felt it.

The moment of perfect silence before the explosion.

Desperately, he reached out with his powers to the only two other psykers with any real power on board; Epistolary Persax and Choirmaster Jak Nemmet.

He only had enough time to shout a warning:

 _PROTECT THEM!_

"All hands, brace for immediate warp transfer. Hold on to something!" Marthas heard Dracov distantly shout.

And then, hell itself exploded from the belly of the _Endless Adoration_.

 _And I had so much I wanted to do..._ thought Marthas as his consciousness was ripped from him.

...

At one moment, the void was silent, as a dozen vessels moved through the emptiness of space, all fleeing from the central most ship.

The next, a rip in the material universe screamed forth, tendrils of energy reaching from the realm beyond as the rift expanded.

First it consumed the _Endless Adoration,_ devouring its progenitor like a greedy parasite.

Then it took in combat group secundus, the _Guardian of Faith_ , _Watchful Gaze_ , and _Steady Hand_ each grabbed by tendrils of energy and dragged into the screaming abyss.

Next were the eldar frigates, the _Voidstriker, Swiftblade,_ and _Deathdancer_ managing to evade the tendrils for a few moments before the expanding mass of the warp rift sucked them in.

The eldar cruiser, the _Will of Kaine_ , was next, unable to outrun the warp-energy, quickly followed by the _Black Revenge_ and the _White Execution_ , who in true fashion for the vessels, entered together, engines straining all the way.

 _His Silent Blade_ was far enough from the blast that it seemed they may be able to escape the grasp of the warp. But it was not to be, as six warp-tendrils burst from the immaterium to wrap around the midsection of the cruiser and pulling it in.

The last ship standing, the massive craftmoon _Isha's Dream_ , bore witness to the fall of the other ships. At last, the expanding rift reached the hulking vessel, and for a moment it seemed as though the incredibly powerful gellar fields of the ship would repulse the rift, allowing the ship and its precious cargo to escape this horrid fate.

But then the rift got a measure of its foe, expanding to envelope the craftmoon and dropping the 1.3 million eldar on board, save one, into unconsciousness.

Then, its prey captured, the rift snapped back in a blink and sealed.

And where once there was two fleets of massive starships, now there was only silence.

...

Within the warp, however, there was no silence to be had.

In the depths of Slaanesh's realm, in the center of the palace of pleasure and pain, the Dark Prince of Chaos rose from his throne in a rage.

He had felt something he had never before experienced, something he never thought he would.

He felt over one and a half million eldar souls, tied to him since the day of his creation, suddenly vanish, severed from him, lost to his grasp forever.

And even worse, one of those souls had already been promised to him by his oldest foe.

Slaanesh turned his beautiful, disturbing face towards the ceiling (or was it the floor?) and let out a tormented, enraged scream that tore across the length and breadth of the immaterium, birthing then destroying a million daemonettes with its power, and heard by many beings.

In Nurgle's workshop, the eldar Goddess Isha looked up from her curled up position on the floor of a rusted, smelly cage as the scream echoed through the garden of nurgle. Tears spilled down her face as she wept with joy, for that sound could only mean that their plan had worked, and her children would live on regardless of what happened in this reality.

Nurgle himself looked up from his great Cauldron of Plague as the scream reached his ears, and Isha's weeping began. He looked down at his guest/prisoner in concern, then realized what the scream had meant, and began to laugh loudly, a terrible sound to hear.

"Cleverly done, my beautiful fly!" He roared with mirth, flecks of foam filled with a dozen lethal pox flying from his mouth as his diseased form jiggled with glee. "That will put that prancing fool in his place for a few centuries!" Nurgle's laughing spell ended quickly, but as he went back to his work at the Cauldron, the fat beast had an enormous grin on his face.

In other parts of the warp, the other chaos gods heard the scream of their youngest sibling. Khorne, on his great throne of skulls let out a rare, barking laugh at the anguish experienced by his greatest rival. And Tzeentch stopped for a moment in his endless planning to admire the intricacies of the trap that had been laid for the god of pleasure.

Slaanesh's cry was not just heard within the Warp, for such was its power that it bled into the material realm, and even the webway.

Across the Imperium, ten thousand astropaths and sanctioned psykers were instantly driven mad by the Scream of Slaanesh, as it would be called in the years to come, and many, many more Inquisitors and Space Marine Librarians, as well as the aforementioned 'mortal', psykers, would feel its effects.

In the planet of Baal, Chief Librarian Mephiston of the Blood Angels was struck low with pain as the cry pierced his mind. Months later, he would confer on the attack with his fellow Chief librarians, Tiguaris of the Ultramarines and Vel'Cona of the Salamanders, who would both admit to similar episodes. This would incite an investigation by the three chapters, as well as the Grey Knights and the Ordo Malleus, which would cause the destruction of five chaos cults on nine different worlds, the thwarting of an assassination attempt on Chapter Master Tu'shan by the Night Lords, and stopping a massive invasion of the Verifax Sector by a combined force of the Death Guard and Thousand Sons, as well eventually leading to the naming of the 'anomaly' as the Scream of Slaanesh.

Though the cause of the Scream would never be found.

The Farseers of a dozen craftworlds also heard the scream, and many would attempt to find its cause in the twisted web of time. Only the high council of Ulthwe would succeed, and proceeded to spread the story across all the known craftworlds via the Harlequins, who had not seemed all that surprised when told of the events in the far off, unnamed system.

In the Webway, the Dark Eldar felt the brunt of Slaanesh's wrath, as two million of the debased creatures had their souls ripped from their bodies as the dark prince sought comfort for the pain of losing the one and a half million craftworld eldar, with an extra half million added on top for the loss of his promised soul.

To Asdrubael Vect, Lord of the Dark City, this event was little more than an inconvenience, resulting in a mild headache and an annoyance as the two servants who were fanning him while he tallied the loot and slaves of his most recent raid died suddenly, leaving him without a breeze for a few minutes as more servants were summoned.

Of course, he learned later from the Harlequins what had happened, and then he flew into a controlled rage and slaughtered dozens of minor nobles who had irritated him over the millennia before eventually calming in the arms of his dozen courtesans and shrugging off the whole event.

Deep in the farthest reaches of the webway, the eldar god Cegorach heard the faintest echoes of the scream of his oldest rival began to cackle and dance with glee at Slaanesh's rage. When his concerned traveling companion, a giant of a man in tarnished, faded white armor and a curved sabre at his side, asked what had happened, the Laughing God smiled and said, "Just a great plan finally coming together," before laughing again and scampering off, leaving his companion cursing as he tried to keep up.

And far away, on Holy Terra, within the throne room of the God-Emperor himself; the Lord General of the Adeptus Custodes heard a faint, echoing scream of anger and reflexively raised his guardian spear in response to a possible threat. After a moment, he lowered his weapon, sure that it was simply the strange acoustics of the Imperial Palace playing tricks on him again. Then, his superhuman hearing picked up a faint creaking sound coming from the golden throne.

The General wheeled quickly, worried there may have been something wrong with the ancient life-support device, but he saw nothing untoward.

Although…

As he turned, and beheld the skeletal, rotted form of the master of mankind, he could have sworn that the skeletal, naked skull of his Lord...

Well, just for a second, it seemed that the Emperor smiled.

...

 _ **A/N**_

 _ **Well, that was massive. This is, I think, the longest chapter of anything I have ever written. A week away from wifi really helps get things done.**_

 _ **Anyway, we've finally reached the crossover part of the crossover. And can I just say, i think that GW designed the warp for use in crossover stories. I mean, it is so perfect (and easy) to use the warp to justify why, for example, a Tyranid Hive-fleet can show up in the outer rim of the starwars galaxy.**_

 _ **In any case,, thank you to all the people and/or things that followed and favourited this story. Feel free to leave a review, follow and fave if you haven't already, and ready yourselves.**_

 _ **For next, there will be blood.**_

Imperator senatus et populi Romani Dinosaurs!


	4. Chapter 4

**Probably** **should have said this sooner, but I own neither Mass Effect or Warhammer 40k. Only the characters belong to me.**

Chapter 4

 _ **T:**_ _I move that, in response to this most recent raid, we begin imposing even harsher sanctions on the Batarians, in addition to deploying a Specter, maybe Harash, to...to… (muffled thump)_

 _ **V:**_ _Tevos!_

 _ **S:**_ _What happened? Did she faint?_

 _ **V:**_ _It seems so. Quick, call for an ambulance!_

 _ **S:**_ _Wait, she's waking up. Tevos, what happened? Are you alright?_

 _ **T:**_ _(indiscernible mumbling) ...scream...no... GET OUT OF MY HEAD! (muffled thump)_

 _ **S:**_ _(exclamation of pain) Ow! Damn, I didn't know Asari could punch that hard. (mumbling) Got me right in the mandible..._

 _ **V:**_ _She's out again. Have you called an ambulance?_

 _ **S:**_ _Shit, calling now. (pause) What was that she said about a scream?_

 _\- Excerpt from the log of emergency council meeting on Oct 13, 2183_

 _Year 2183, Planet Vermire, Salarian Camp_

" **We are** _ **not**_ **a mistake**!"

Wrex's enraged voice echoed around the camp, causing both Salarian operatives and members of the Normandy crew to look towards the small gathering at Kirahe's command tent. Before Shepard or Commander Kirahe could respond to the Krogan's outburst, Wrex stormed off.

"Commander, I would suggest you get your crewmember under control. Whatever plan I come up with, everyone involved needs to be committed to the mission." Kirahe said.

"Wrex is just upset, and I think he has a pretty legitimate reason to be." Shepard shot an annoyed look at the Salarian, who ignored it. "Wrex knows what's at stake here. He'll cool off in a few minutes."

The booming retort of a Claymore heavy shotgun rang out around the camp, as if to disagree with the commander's assessment.

Shepard sighed. "Or maybe not. I'll go talk with him. Just figure out how to destroy that base."

Kirahe nodded and Jane turned towards the origin of the shotgun blast, Kaiden and Ashley following.

At the corner of the supply tent, Jane saw that the alien members of her squad were gathered and looking at something.

Another shotgun blast told her what that was.

The three turned as she approached. Liara had a concerned expression on her face, while Garrus looked calm; however Shepard could see that his body was tensed, like he was about to go into a firefight, and Tali's eyes and wringing hands absolutely bled worry.

None of this bode well for her conversation with the Krogan Battlemaster.

"How bad is it?" Jane asked, trying to get an idea of what she would have to deal with.

"This is the angriest I've seen him, Shepard. Hell, this is probably the angriest I've _ever_ seen a sane Krogan. It's like he's in a blood rage, but he still has control of himself." Garus said, his mandibles shifting nervously.

 _Well, that sounds just great._ Shepard thought. "Alright, I'm going to talk to him. Wait here."

Before any of them could say anything, she walked past them and around the tent.

Wrex was pacing at the edge of the water, his Claymore out. As she approached, he fired another shell into the beach, causing a spray of sand to explode from the sight of impact.

Shepard could almost _feel_ the rage pouring of the old warrior.

Wrex heard her approach and turned, lowering his shotgun, but not stowing it.

Jane opened her mouth to speak, but Wrex beat her to it.

"Shepard, we can't let that scaly little shit destroy that cure. This could be the last hope my people have to avoid extinction."

Shepard swallowed, then said, "Wrex, I understand that this is hard, but we _have_ to destroy this base, and that means the genophage cure as well. There just isn't enough time to try and salvage it. I'm sorry."

The old Krogan looked at her with shock, betrayal naked in his eyes, before they narrowed with rage. "I thought _you_ of all people would understand. I've told you Jane, the Krogan are _**dying**_. It is a slow, drawn-out death yes; but death nonetheless. We are bleeding ourselves into extinction with cuts and scrapes. Just look at what Krogan society has become! The clans of Tuchanka are ununified, warring and squabbling amongst themselves over scraps and insults, while our young males run from one pointless fight to the next as pirates and mercenaries, dying faster than we can replace them. And when there is finally a cure, a way to end all this and bring the Krogan back together, you want me to help destroy it?!"

Shepard adopted a soothing tone, trying to calm the near hysterical krogan. "Wrex, I _do_ understand. What happened to the Krogan was wrong, but this is bigger than that…"

"No Shepard, you don't understand; you don't know the helplessness I've felt for the past millennia. You _can't_ know! I was **there** when the Genophage began! And I have had to watch my people be crushed beneath the weight of this damn disease!" Wrex paused, and Jane saw something change in his expression; changing from simple anger to a grim resolve. "So, if Saren is willing to remove that weight…"

In a flash of movement, Wrex raised his claymore and trained on Shepard's chest. Reacting on years of training, Jane drew her pistol and pressed it against Wrex's head plate.

Ignoring the firearm pressed against his head, Wrex growled, "Maybe I'm fighting for the wrong side."

Out of the corner of her eye, Jane saw movement as her friends reacted to Wrex's actions. She forced them from her mind as she focused on the Krogan before her.

"Wrex, you don't want to do this." She said, her voice hard.

"No, I don't. But I have to. For the good of my people, I _have_ to save this cure!"

"Wrex why don't you just stop and think for a fucking second?!" Shepard snapped, her anger and annoyance finally bleeding into her voice. "What do you think Saren is going to do with this cure? Give it away out of the goodness of his heart? Hell no! He'll use it to enslave the krogan, make you his puppets, and puppets of the Reapers by extension. You'll just be weapons, like the geth, that they'll use to destroy the other races before killing the krogan themselves. Your people deserve a cure, but this is not the way!"

Shepard's outburst made the Wrex pause, and the Spectre was quick to press her advantage.

"Wrex, this is bigger than the Krogan, than any one race. If Saren wins, brings back the Reapers, we're all dead. And it won't be a slow decline. We'll all be wiped out. Like the Protheans, like the Inusannon, like who knows how many thousands of sentient races that came before us who are lost to time." Shepard's voice grew softer, "This is the right thing to do. Please, trust me."

For a moment, Wrex looked uncertain, and Jane was terrified that her deepest fear would come to pass; that she would lose a member of her crew, and worse, it would be by her own hand, her own action.

Thankfully, the moment passed, and Wrex nodded, lowering his Claymore and stowing it on the small of his back.

"Alright Shepard. I don't like it, but you're right. Saren would abuse the power that this cure would give him over the Krogan. Better to destroy it and find a cure later than wind up as his slaves." Wrex looked over her shoulder at their gathered crewmates. "And you can put away the pistol now Ashley. Though I'm not sure what you thought you were going to do with that peashooter."

Shepard turned to see Ashley with a sheepish look on her face as she attached her sidearm to her hip; Kaiden was looking at her with relief. Tali appeared to have physically held Garus back from intervening, and Jane just caught the fading blue of a biotic aura around Liara's hands.

Shepard looked up into the clear sky and closed her eyes for a moment. _Thank god this didn't end with a death,_ she thought. _Hopefully Kirahe will have a plan to destroy the base by now, and then we can get the hell off this planet._

No sooner had she finished the thought than a lance of burning agony speared her mind, grinding into her brain like a drill.

Shepard cried out, falling to her knees as her hands grabbed her head, eyes shooting open, yet unseeing.

She heard her friends' voices calling to her, but they were muffled and faint, and she could not make out what they said.

Though her eyes were open, she did not see the sands of the beach she knelt on.

Instead she saw the blackness of space; one moment empty, and then with a flash of purple, a dozen massive, unfamiliar starships appeared.

And then a earth shattering, rage filled scream exploded in her mind, and Shepard dropped into merciful oblivion.

...

Shepard slowly awoke from her enforced slumber. She found herself lying on a cot in the medical tent of the camp, her friends gathered worriedly around her.

"What happened?" Jane asked groggily, sitting up in the cot.

The gathering looked at each other nervously, then Liara sat down beside her and gently began to speak, "Right after you resolved things with Wrex, you collapsed. You've been out for about twenty minutes, and you were mumbling something about a scream while you were asleep. Do you remember anything of what happened, or why this happened?"

Jane considered this; there was still a dull, throbbing pain right between her eyes, but that was slowly fading, and she could remember the vision of the massive, unfamiliar spaceships.

"I think...I think it might be something to do with the prothean beacon. I just got a splitting pain in my head, and saw another vision, this time of some weird-looking spaceships."

"Prothean? Or Reapers?" Tali asked, always curious about various spacecraft.

Shepard shook her head, "No, definitely not Reapers. Protherans...I can't be sure, but I don't think so. Maybe allies of the Protheans; their ships looked...strange." Shepard shrugged. "I don't know guys, maybe this is some kind of side effect from interacting with the prothean beacon. Whatever it was, I feel fine now."

"That is good news, commander." Said the cool, confident voice of Commander Kirahe as he walked in. "Because I've come up with a plan.

…

 _Year 2183, somewhere in the Terminus systems, hangar bay 44 of the_ Will of Kaine, _eighteen minutes after transition._

"Ug...my head..."

Crimson Hunter Carles Biro slowly rose from his position on the floor of the small hangar where his Nightshade interceptor was docked. He gingerly removed his war mask and rubbed the sore spot on the back of his head.

 _Must have hit my head when I fainted._ He thought. Then his expression changed to one of mild confusion. _Wait...why did I faint?_

It was then that the pilot noticed the faint, tuneless humming flitting through the air. He turned towards it's source and saw, perched on the canopy of his fighter craft, the vibrantly-clothed form of a Harlequin.

This particular harlequin was not wearing the usual form-fitting holosuit that was the standard dress of their kind. Instead, he wore a long, deep blue coat that had a white and red domino design along the bottom edge. The coat also had a hood edged with the same domino pattern. Said hood was currently lowered, allowing Carles to see that the dancer had a head of thick, slicked back purple hair.

The performer had his back to Carles, so he could not see his face, but based on the garb, he assumed that this was one of the troupmasters of the Masque of the Shrouded Stars, which had been on board their ship when the battle with the chaotic vessels had started.

However, that was not what he was really concerned about. Carles, like most Crimson Hunters, was very protective of his ship. The fighter craft was, essentially, his weapon as an Aspect Warrior. The interceptor was as important to him as a Howling Banshee's power sword or a Fire Dragon's fusion gun to their respective wielders, and as such he didn't like anyone but himself and the engineers touching it. So, feeling protective, Carles strode purposefully towards the harlequin.

He had barely made two steps towards the ship when a lilting, light laugh rang out.

"Nice to see that you're finally awake. You're one of the first. It's been pretty quiet with everyone sleeping, but then I'm used to the quiet."

The harlequin's voice was rich and musical, perfect for dramatic speeches and beautiful songs. Carles was even more certain that this was a troupmaster now.

Regardless, the aspect warrior wanted the man off his ship.

"Would you mind getting off my fighter?" he said, his voice maybe a tad more forceful than was wise.

The Harlequin just chuckled. "Of course, my apologies." he said, and in the time it took the pilot to blink, he moved from the ship to stand before the forcefield at the end of the hangar, his hands clasped behind his back, observing the void beyond.

Carles looked back and forth between his ship and the harlequin, his mind confusedly trying to work out how he had moved so quickly.

 _I know that they're fast, but that...that shouldn't be possible._

Now somewhat cautious, a vague suspicion forming in his mind, Carles went to check on his fighter, making sure to keep the harlequin in his peripheral vision.

A few moments passed in silence before Carles spoke again, something bothering him.

"What did you mean, everyone sleeping? Did something happen to the ship?"

Again, the musical laugh sounded. "I would say so. We were sucked into a massive warp rift."

There was a clang as the tool Carles was holding hit the floor.

"WHAT!?" he shouted. The Crimson Hunter turned towards the door, drawing his shuriken pistol sidearm as he did. "The ship could already be swarming with neverborn! Why are you just standing there?" He yelled accusingly.

" **Calm yourself**."

The Harlequin's voice echoed with power, and Carles felt his irrational fear vanish. His body relaxed as he turned back to the Harlequin, who had now turned to face him.

Carles saw that the man, by eldar standards, looked unremarkable; as average as any member of their species could be. The exception to this was his eyes. The left one was a bright, vibrant shade of purple, while his right was a deep pink. It gave the man an almost unbalanced look; but then that was fitting, as _unbalanced_ was an apt description of most of the followers of the Laughing God.

Under his coat, he wore the usual Harlequin holo-suit, separated into quarters; upper right and lower left a solid, dark blue, and the upper left and lower right in the white and red domino pattern seen on his coat. He wore a flip belt, and Carles could see that his mask was attached there, mostly hidden beneath his coat.

"The ship is fine. Us being pulled into the rift, in fact all of our ships being pulled in, including the craftmoon, was all part of the great plan Cegorach and Isha made millennia ago."

Carles was confused, as well as a tad frightened. What was he talking about? What plan would risk doing something like that? And what had he done with his voice?

Seeing the confusion and fear in his fellow eldar's eyes, the Harlequin spoke again, his voice soothing. "Would you do me a favor? Take off your soulstone. That should make things clear."

Now even more confused, Carles did as he was requested, gently removing the emerald-green stone from his breastplate and placed it on the wing of his Nightshade and mentally preparing himself for the 'pulling' sensation on his soul that every eldar got when they lost physical contact with a soulstone, as Slannesh's influence tried to drag their souls to her.

But a few seconds after letting go of the soulstone, nothing happened.

A look of confusion, then incredulous glee spread across the pilot's face as the realization came to him.

"I cannot feel her. I can't feel the pull of She Who Thirsts!" He practically cried, joy overwhelming him as the implications of this simple fact began to sink in.

The Harlequin's face was split into a massive grin and he began to laugh heartily, dancing and jumping about the hangar joyously. "Exactly, my friend! We are free! All of us; you, me, the crew of this ship; one and a half million eldar, spirited away through trickery and sorcery, beyond Her grasp, to ensure that the eldar will survive. Isha weeps for joy, Cegorach dances, laughs and sings, and even the corpse-emperor of humanity smiles, for the Eldar will live on!" He crowed triumphantly.

The harlequin slowed at last, coming to rest lying on a beam that ran across the ceiling. Carles looked up at him, now smiling widely as well, as the other eldar let out a loud, contented sigh.

"We are _free_." The Harlequin said simply, throwing his arms out to emphasize his statement. He shifted to a sitting position on the beam, his legs hanging in the air, then reached beneath his coat and pulled out his mask, studying it.

The mask did not look like the other masks his troup wore, which were a blue-tinged white. This was a pale violet color; it also didn't appear to be designed like any mask he had seen before; the face, far from being overstyalized and exaggerated as was usual, was realistically carved into an eldar face that looked neither male or nor female, instead something in between. In addition, there were a pair of curved horns that sprouted from the forehead of the mask.

Carles was puzzled by this discrepancy for a moment, before his eyes widened in horror as realization struck him. He looked at the ankle of the elevated performer, and his suspicions were confirmed as he saw the shattered soulstone affixed there.

This was not a Troupmaster, as the Crimson Hunter had thought. This was probably the most dangerous eldar one could ever come across, so lethal that even to speak to one, nevermind _hear_ them speak, outside the performances of the Harlequins was as good as a death sentence. And he had just had a whole freaking conversation with him.

This Eldar was a Solitaire, one of those who played Slaanesh in the great dances, and one whose soul was personally promised to the dark prince.

The Solitaire turned his mask over in his hands, unaware of the horror that had struck his companion.

"For nearly half a millennium," he said, his voice now quiet and filled with emotion, his expression solemn and somewhat sad, "I served Cegorach, doing his work to fight the forces of Chaos. I danced and deceived and destroyed, slaying hundreds, thousands of the servants if the dark gods, foiling numerous plots and plans, even led that fool Sorcerer around the webway in a hopeless chase for a few decades," he chuckled at the memory, "and the whole while She was at my back, my constant companion, whispering to me as I slept, that the moment I slipped, dropped my guard, fell to the blades of the foe in my great duty as all had before me, that she would be there to drag my soul to the depths of her twisted realm, and the hundred thousand tortures I would undergo. I had accepted that, was prepared to undergo that if my actions could harm the forces that had brought our people so low."

Carles heard a faint creaking as the Solitaire's grasp tightened on his mask. "It was as if the weight of the galaxy rested on my shoulders. And then, in a moment, that weight was lifted." The eldar brightened again, and in a flash was on his feet again, arms outstretched as he gazed into space. "Of all his servants, the Laughing God chose me to be saved, to be severed from that relentless pull. I do not know why I was chosen...why we _all_ were chosen to be the survivors, but I do not plan to waste this opportunity."

The Solitaire then stepped off the beam landing gracefully on the floor of the hangar. He turned to Carles, a warm, friendly smile on his face.

"I must say, it has been nice to talk with another again. It has been...a very long time. Thank you, my friend." He then noticed the look of fear that the other eldar was giving him, and realized why a moment later. "Oh, I am so sorry, I had forgotten the reputation we have. You need not fear the Solitaire's curse. Those who speak to us, or we speak to, die as a result of how close my kind walk to the dark prince, their souls caught in his grasp and drawn to him, one way or another. As we are beyond him now, that curse is lifted, and you are in no danger."

Carles relaxed, but only slightly, and the Solitair sighed quietly to himself.

 _Change will take time. Just be patient._ He thought to himself.

Outwardly, he was still all smiles. "Well, I must be going. The commanders will want to know what has happened, and I'm just about the only one who can explain, I think." He walked fluidly past the pilot to the exit to the hangar, turning as he passed through the door.

"Good luck, Carles. We all have a bright future ahead of us, for the first time in over ten thousand years. Don't waste it."

And then the Solitaire was gone, blurring down the halls of the ship as more of the crew awoke from their warp-induced slumber.

The Solitaire's words rang in Carles' mind, and his thoughts were drawn to Wilsha, a member of the ship's medical staff who had caught his eye and set his heart fluttering the last time he had been sent to the medical ward with severe burns from a cockpit fire.

 _We have a bright future ahead._

The Harlequin's words echoed again, and he steeled his resolve. With purpose to his steps, he headed for the medical bay.

…

 _The bridge of_ His Silent Blade, _the same time._

Marthas' rise from unconsciousness was sudden. He jerked awake and sat up, drawing his volkite serpenta and aiming at imagined foes, his chest heaving as he realized there were no enemies around.

Confused, the Inquisitor stood as the other members of the bridge staff began to mutter and wake from their slumbers, shaking their heads.

"What happened?" One of the bridge guards said, holding a hand to his head as he stood. "Feels something hit me with a grot."

His companion looked at him strangely. "How in the name of the Emperor do you know what that feels like?"

"Well, once an ork tried to bludgeon me to death with a nearby gretch when his choppa broke on the side of a tank."

"Ok, but when did this happen? I've served with you since we enlisted, and I'm pretty sure I would remember something like that."

"Remember the Elex campaign?"

"Oh, riiiiight. I was on patrol when that happened."

Marthas blocked out the pointless conversation and called out across the bridge as he knelt to check the vitals of his still unconscious apprentice. "Someone give me a status report, now!"

Captain Dracov had woken by that point, and groggily pulled up a diagnostic on the holotable, slowly at first but with increasing speed as the captain shook off the forced sleep. Images and words flicked by at the speed of thought, and soon the old captain knew everything important mechanically about the ship.

He turned to the Inquisitor and said, "My Lord, it seems that most of our systems were disabled or deactivated when we went through the rift. All systems save life support, gravity, coms and interior lighting are going through a hard restart. The ship is completely defenseless at the moment."

 _Well, that is just perfect._ Marthas thought, letting out a sigh of relief as he found Bethany to be physically well, though still unconscious. He propped her up against the wall in a more comfortable position then asked, "How long until we are combat ready?"

"A half hour minimum, if not much longer."

"Captain, we just got sensors back! It seems they were not so badly disrupted." the sensor officer called out.

"Give me a scan of the area, I want to know where we are and what is going on with the rest of the fleet."

"Yes my lord!" The man said, getting to work.

"Reports are coming in from the rest of the ship." The logistics officer said from her station on the other side of the bridge. "It seems the rest of the ship was struck like us. Crewmembers are awakening and reporting some minor damage to noncritical systems, as well as a few dozen injuries and a handful of deaths." She paused, then continued in a grim voice. "Scratch that. I just got word...we've lost most of the Astropathic choir. It seems that Master Nemmet was only able to protect three of the other astropaths from the power of the rift; the rest had their minds destroyed, either dying outright or going mad, and a few...changed. Do not fear, Sergeant Guiles and his squad dealt with them."

The news was certainly a blow to the command staff. The choir of the _Blade_ had over thirty members, to hear that only four had survived the event was demoralizing, in addition to the fact this would make it considerably harder to call for help if they needed it.

However, no-one on the bridge got the chance to really process the information, for at that moment a spine chilling scream came echoing down the stairs from the navigator's station.

Marthas locked eyes with the two Cadians at the base of the stairs, and fearing the worst, all three men moved at the same moment, the guardsmen storming up the stairs with lasguns raised, Marthas right behind them with his force sword drawn.

The three reached the top of the stairs quickly, the stormtroopers there already awake and training their hotshots on the door.

Marthas, fearing the worst, motioned for the Cadians to stay back as he moved up to the door, the Stormtroopers covering him as he punched in the code to open the thick adamantium barrier.

The door slide open quietly and the Inquisitor rushed through, both Stormtroopers following him. However, he did not find a rampaging daemonic beast as he had expected, but the whimpering form of the Navigator, Lady Marisa Essex of house Trello, huddled on the floor before her nav-throne, facing away from the door.

The navigator was a small woman, barely more than five feet tall, though her attitude more than made up for her lack of height. Her features were what would be described in our time as oriental, with a rounded face, small nose and almond-shaped eyes, which at the moment were screwed shut.

As with all navigators, Essex had additional mutations alongside the third eye that made her so useful to the imperium. Some navigators got off with relatively little, maybe a few patches of easily hidden scales or an extra finger or two.

Marisa was not so lucky.

Her skin was tinged a light pink color, and instead of hair her head was covered in short, fleshy tendrils of a darker shade than the rest of her skin, and had her eyes been open, they would have glowed faintly with a silvery light.

The others paused at the door, unsettled by the appearance of the navigator, but Marthas moved quickly to her side, grabbing a hold of her shoulders and pulling her upright, shaking her gently.

"Marisa, what's wrong?"

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice, terror and confusion radiating from the woman. "Inquisitor, please, help me...it is so dark, and there is no light…" Her voice was quiet and scared, so different from the tone she normally used, and Marthas felt his concern grow.

"What do you mean? Marisa, what happened?" He asked.

She spoke again, her voice little more than a whisper. "I cannot see it. I gaze into the realm of souls, and His light is gone. I am alone, blind, lost in the darkness." Her expression changed to one of despair, and she grasped the front of his shirt, her eyes finally meeting his.

"The Astronomican is GONE!" She screamed, and with that the navigator passed out.

Marthas' mind went into shock for a moment, as her words refused to fully register in the man's mind.

 _The Astronomican? Gone? No, that...that's impossible!"_

"Uh...Sir?"

The questioning voice of one of the guardsmen snapped Marthas out of his mild panic. He quickly removed expression from his face, then barked out, "Take the Navigator down to the bridge and call for someone to take her and my Interrogator to the medica."

The Cadians hesitated for a split second, unnerved by Marisa's appearance, but then they moved into the room and gently picked the woman up, draping one of her arms over each of their shoulders with practiced ease forged on the battlefield and moved towards the stairs.

To the Stormtroopers, Marthas said, "Accompany them to the medica. And, if anything happens…"

The veterans needed to be told no more, knowing what was expected of them. The two bowed to the inquisitor and followed their charge down the stairs.

Marthas was left alone in the Navigator's chambers. He slowly moved in front of the wire-ridden chair from which Marisa would guide his ship through the warp and sat down heavily.

Marthas took a deep breath and closed his eyes, reaching out into the immaterium.

What he was about to do was extremely dangerous, and his master would be turning in his grave...well, he would be if had Marthas actually been able to bury him. But the Inquisitor _had_ to know, to see for himself.

Slowly, prepared for any potential attacks, Marthas began to lower his mental defenses, moving his mind deeper into the warp gradually. Second by eternal second, the walls around his mind got smaller and smaller, until at last they were gone, and he beheld the warp in all it's maddening glory.

But something was...off.

Instead of the enraged, swirling tempest of thoughts and feelings he was used to seeing, what Marthas beheld could be better described as an ocean; still moving, with currents and waves, but calm and readable. In the distance, he viewed disturbances that resembled the warp storms he was unfortunately familiar with, but so small that he would consider them little more that the warp equivalent of a mild rainstorm.

As he had expected, his presence quickly drew warp predator's to his spirit, but this just confused him more. These were not the raving, powerful, soul-hungry daemons of Chaos he had learned to defend himself from. These were weak, primitive spirits that cautiously regarded him with hungry gazes before scattering as he released a flash of power.

After scattering the predators, and now more confused than ever, Marthas got to the reason he had taken this risk.

The Inquisitor turned his gaze towards Terra, and saw, to his dismay, that the burning, blinding light of the Astronomican, the great Lighthouse of humanity, was indeed, gone as if it had never existed.

However, he could not remain upset, for his mind was still trying to figure out why the warp was so calm, so _different,_ and yet vaguely familiar at the same time!

He did not have time to consider the dilemma further, as the shaking of his physical body pulled his spirit from the warp unexpectedly.

Marthas jerked as his soul returned to his body, causing the one who brought him back, the sensor officer, to jerk back in surprise. Marthas shook his head to clear the dizziness of the return trip before glaring annoyed at the officer, a man named Gerald.

"What is it?" The Inquisitor snapped.

Gerald blanched somewhat, but snapped of a quick salute before saying, "I have finished the system scan as ordered, my lord."

"And?"

"Firstly, the other ships in the fleet are all here and seem to be in the same position as us. In addition, the eldar vessels appear to have been transported to, and are clustered an AU off our port bow. Based on their movements, or lack thereof, I would hazard to guess that they are in a similar situation to us."

"Alright, and what about the system itself?"

"It matches no system in Imperial records, or at least the records we have access to. However, I did pick up two items of interest. The first seems to be a large station or satellite of xenos construction on the outer edge of the system, that looks abandoned and unpowered. It looks like...well, a giant tuning fork to be honest, like those that musicians use. It seems harmless, and is not giving off any detectable energy readings."

Marthas filed that away for later consideration. "And the second item?"

"Two small ships, closer to the star, that are of unknown design; one eighty meters, one one-hundred fifty meters. Likely xenos, though one of them looks like it may have been built by humans based on the overall aesthetic. Also, the smaller one seems to be attacking, and boarding, the larger vessel."

Marthas gave greater thought to this, and a plan of action quickly formed in his mind.

He was not in the best of moods right now. He was lost, confused, and overall rather agitated.

As such, he decided to take the easiest course of action available to him.

"Are the two ships within the flight-range of the thunderhawk?" He asked, standing from the chair.

"Aye my lord."

"Excellent." he said under his breath. "Return to your station crewman."

Gerald nodded and left quickly. Marthas followed him down the stairs, activating the vox-bead in his ear.

"Sergeant Osiris, do you read?"

"Yes Inquisitor." A rich, deep voice replied.

"Good. Get your squad ready for action. We are proceeding with the boarding."

"Understood. We await your arrival." A pause. "Sir, what happened? The captain was not entirely clear in his announcement."

"I will explain everything once I get to you. Just be ready, as there has been a change of target. We no longer hunt the Traitors; our foes are xenos."

...

It took Marthas around ten minutes to get from the bridge to the _Blade's_ hangar. He stopped along the way at his personal armory to change into one of his sets of armor, as well as grab a few grenades to augment his armament. His armor was black carapace with gold decoration, including a chest-mounted imperial I over dark blue fatigues, and his greatcoat over that.

The large steel doors of the hangar slid open automatically as the Inquisitor approached, and Marthas saw that the flight crew had recovered from the effects of the transition, a score of technicians and mechanics scurrying about the large room preparing the hangar's sole occupant, a black-painted thunderhawk gunship with boarding ramp lowered, for flight.

And standing before said thunderhawk, engaged in quiet conversation, was a trio of Space Marines, all clad in advanced suits of Mrk VIII _Errant_ power armor, all were unhelmed.

As usual, the squad leader, Sergeant Velov Osiris of the Lamenters chapter, perfectly anticipated the Inquisitor's time of arrival. The moment he walked through the doors, Osiris turned and bowed respectfully to Marthas.

The marine straitened, his uncovered head displaying his features. Like many of the sons of Sanguinius, Osiris had a handsome face, perhaps a tad blocky and rugged, but his features were strong and conveyed a sense of reliability. His skin was a tad pale, as was the case with many Astartes, but he seemed to almost glow with vitality. The sergeant had a head of medium length, dirty blonde hair that he left relatively untouched, as well as dark brown, compassionate eyes.

This whole image was somewhat marred by the trio of faded, reddish scars that crossed his face, courtesy of a long-dead tyranid broodlord. Most mortals looked upon the scars with awe, seeing them as a badge of honor and prowess, that the marine had survived such a grave injury. To Osiris himself, he felt that they were a blemish, both on his appearance, and on his combat record.

Osiris carried his usual armament, a Deathwatch boltgun mag locked to his back for use as his primary weapon, and additional magazines of various special ammunition attached to bandoleers on his chest. On his left hip was his sidearm, an inferno pistol, alongside a smattering of grenades, both frag and krak. On his right side was a relic of his ill-fortuned chapter: a master-crafted chainsword, named _Bloody Salvation_ , that was over three thousand years old. The weapon was a gift to his chapter from an imperial guard regiment that the Lamenters had saved during the defense of Corillia during the ninth black crusade. The sword was the only piece of wargear Velov had brought from his chapter when he joined the desthwatch, and he considered himself greatly honored to wield it.

To the right of the Lamenter was Epistolary Raan Persax of the Blood Ravens, who dipped his head in deference to his superior. The Librarian was drastically different from the brother-sergeant in appearance. His skin was a light brown color, his head shaven, (though he did have a thin goatee of black hair on his face), and his eyes were a dull silver color. His face was thin for an astartes, his eyes calculating and intelligent, and the Librarian overall gave off the feel of a scholar, impassively analyzing all around him with a keen, analytical eye. Like Osiris, he bore marks of his service in the Emperor's name, in the form of a single puncture wound in his neck, long healed, that he received courtesy of a Haemonculus needle.

In his left hand the Epistolary grasped a force staff, the symbol of his office and potent weapon, and he had a bolt pistol holstered at his hip alongside a few grenades. However, his most lethal tool was his psychic powers, which were rivaled only by the Inquisitor himself among the forces Marthas had gathered over the years.

The relationship between Persax and Sergeant Osiris was...unique, to put it simply. While the Epistolary vastly outranked Osiris both within the hierarchy of the Deathwatch and their respective chapters, Raan had expressed early on in their assignment under Marthas that he had no desire to command the Kill-Team, and was more than happy to let Osiris take the lead. While the Inquisitor had no opinion on the matter at the time, he had seen no issue with it, and given Osiris overall operational control of all Deathwatch operatives on the ship, save squad Lothbrok. Osiris had proved to be a great leader, and still often took advice from the older librarian.

Marthas had yet to regret his decision.

The third marine was the last member of the squad's 'command group'; Apothecary Augustus Theoverus of the Sons of Guilliman.

The Son was equipped similarly to his Sergeant, with a boltgun and chainsword alongside a bolt pistol, though all his gear was standard issue unlike that of the Lamenter. Lastly, in addition to regular grenades, Theoverus carried two distinct, egg shaped grenades with a green double-helix emblem on them. He also had a Narthecium, the signature tool of Apothecaries, attached to his right gauntlet. Said gauntlet, alongside his helmet and power pack, were painted white, to mark out his role as a medical officer.

In regards to appearance, the Apothecary was noticeably younger than his fellows, with tanned, unblemished skin, short-shaven brown hair, and pale blue eyes. As far as Marthas knew, he had only been a part of the deathwatch for a few months before Augustus joined his forces, and that had been less than a year ago. Theoverus' expression was somewhat haughty, though that look fell away when Marthas entered the hangar.

As the inquisitor entered, Theo bowed deeply, giving the sign of the Aquila as he did so. "Greetings, my lord. It seems that the emperor has smiled upon us today; we lost only three members of the hangar staff during the transition. And now, he blesses us with the chance to test ourselves against unknown xenos. I relish the opportunity, and look forward to the battle ahead."

Marthas noticed that a faint expression of annoyance, or possibly disgust, flickered across Osiris' face as Theo spoke, but it quickly vanished. "The squad is embarked on the _Hammer of Judgment_ , my lord. We only awaited you."

"Good. But where are the twins?"

Osiris opened his mouth to respond when a voice rang out.

"Up here, Boss!"

Marthas looked up at the top of the thunderhawk, and sure enough, perched on the canopy of the venerable gunship, were the twins; Varsius and Tellara Kelleti.

 _Why did I think that they would just wait inside the ship? They've never done that in their entire service._ Marthas thought absently as the siblings hopped down from their perch with ease.

Despite being fraternal twins, the brother and sister still had a remarkable family resemblance. Varsius was slightly taller, standing at six foot, while his sister was five foot nine. Both of them had dark black, slightly shining hair: Varsius wore his in a tight topknot, while Tellara's was kept in a thick, ornate braid that hung to her lower back; the second longest hair on the ship, behind operative LIX. Both of them were lean of body, and their movements were fluid and smooth, with an underlying hint of controlled strength that belied their lithe forms. This was amplified by their choice of armor, suits of modified flak armor that were slim, form-fitting, and lighter than usual sets, painted black and worn over a dark grey under suit.

The pair appeared to be in their late twenties, as their faces still held youth. Their visages were angular and attractive, but to the Inquisitor's eyes they were ever so slightly...off, for lack of a better term.

The reason for this was quickly explained by the pointed ears left bare by their choice hairstyles; for the Kalleties were half-breeds, sired from a human mother and a eldar father.

Marthas knew not how such a heretical pairing had come to be (though he had suspicions as to the affiliation of their father), and neither did the twins. All he knew was that at a young age their mother was killed, and the pair was taken in by a criminal organization, where they remained until the Inquisitor recruited them ten years ago. He had seen some potential in them, and considering they had been raised loyal to the Imperial cult, he took a risk.

One which had paid off several times in the past decade.

Their ears were not the only thing that their Eldar father had left them with. Shortly after joining with the Marthas, two crates arrived among the usual supplies that _His Silent Blade_ took on whenever the ship stopped in an imperial system, one addressed to each of the twins. Within were a selection of weapons which the pair still used to this day.

For Varsius, the crate had contained a single edged, curved sword with a bronze-colored hilt designed in the style of the dark eldar, alongside a shuriken pistol with a grey casing. Today, he wore the blade across his back, and had the pistol holstered at his hip. In addition, the man had a eight throwing knives on his person, two on forearm sheaths, three in a shoulder sheath, and another three in a rib sheath.

Tellara, on the other hand, had gotten a pair of very specialized weapons. One, a forearm-bound punch-dagger known as a Harlequin's kiss, the other, a wrist-mounted device with an attached glove, called a Harlequin's caress. In addition to these exotic weapons, Tellara had a simple laspistol as a ranged weapon. Though, the woman rarely used it.

You can probably guess what kind of eldar Marthas suspected as the father of the twin assassins.

Two landed on the deck with nary a sound, Varsius bowing his head respectfully to the Inquisitor, Tellara simply grinning as Marthas rolled his eyes.

"We are leaving. Get on board." The Inquisitor said simply.

Both of them nodded, their demeanor becoming serious as the mission loomed. They quickly strode into the darkened troop bay of the thunderhawk, Persax and Theoverus following them.

Marthas looked at Sergeant Osiris, and gestured to the waiting ship.

"Shall we?"

...

The day had started well enough for Captain Bekis.

The batarian knew that his men had been getting impatient, waiting in this no name, backwater system for something, anything, to show up, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before some cheap-ass captain would stop here to eject his ezo core into the system's gas giant to avoid paying the docking fees in the nearby, more developed system a few hours away.

And sure enough, he had been right. And now his men had their hands/claws sunk into a volus cargo freighter, and were looking at a big payday for offing a few defenseless balls.

Of course, there _was_ the small matter of the mercs the volus captain had hired for security, but his men could deal with them.

At least that's what they _should_ have done.

The batarian ran a hand down his face as and growled as his second, a turian with Palaven facial markings, gave him an update on the situation.

"We're down another man. Danin took a round to the head on the last push. The mercs are _really_ dug in hard now." The turian said.

"There are four of them. _**FOUR!**_ And you dumbasses can't handle even that? What the fuck am I even paying you for?" Bekis yelled in exasperation. "We have the rest of the ship already, but you can't take one fucking room?"

"Captain, the mercs are settled in now. They have a biotic, an engineer, and an marksman. Any time our guys try to go in, they get ripped apart. They're in a perfect choke point right now." The turian said.

"Then circumvent the chokepoint! Blast in one of the walls and take them by surprise. This is basic shit people; I shouldn't have to tell you this!" Bekis took a deep breath to calm himself, then spoke again with more calm. "Pull squad Echo off loading duties and send them to help Delta deal with these fuckers. Breach in from the side. Take them out if you have to, but try to keep them alive if you can; I know some guys on Omega who pay real good money for fit slaves, and these fucks fit the bill."

The turian nodded and went to distribute orders. Bekis was about to go back to his coffee (one of the few good things that humans had brought into galactic society) when the batarian manning the sensor station spoke up.

"Uh, boss? There's a ship incoming: A little over twenty-five meters long, and looks armed to the teeth."

"What the fuck now?" Bekis grumbled. "Onscreen." He said louder, and an image of the offending ship appeared on the monitor.

It was an ugly thing, looking like a big, black metal box with wings, engines and guns strapped all over it. He had to admit though, the main cannon on the vessel's back looked intimidating: he'd never seen a mass accelerator with a barrel that large, but considering the belt feeds on the eight or so large machinegun-looking weapons the ship mounted, he assumed that this was a _very_ old ship still using primitive chemicals as an accelerant for their weapons. The strange design and low-tech weapons caused the idea of a first-contact to flit across his mind for a moment, but honestly he didn't really care. He just wanted to drink his coffee, kill those stupid mercenaries, and take this cargo back to Omega for a big-ass payout.

"Are they approaching us?" Berkis asked.

"Yeah sir, they're heading right for us."

"Alright, hit 'em with the guardians. That will either kill them, or convince the scavengers to look elsewhere. This is our kill."

The man on the weapons console grinned as he punched in some commands. There was a slight vibration as the guardian lasers the Batarian raider mounted warmed up. Then, in a flash, a blast of blue light arrowed into the approaching ship.

Remarkably though, the lasers did far less damage than was expected, causing some superficial damage to the front of the ship and shearing off a pair of the HMG's mounted near the nose.

Even more remarkable, the ship _kept coming_ , flying at full speed towards the pirate vessel. Bekis couldn't help but be a tad impressed by the durability of the ship.

 _Tough bastards._ Bekis thought. He was about to order another shot when the main cannon of the other ship suddenly began to glow a reddish-orange color. Before the man had time to really question this, a blast of energy roared out of the ship and lanced into his.

An explosion rocked the pirate vessel, causing the bridge crew to stumble. "What the fuck was that?!" Bekis cried,

"That blast of...whatever it was went right through our shields! Must have been some kind of guardian system. They took out the port-side defense cannon, we can't fire back now." One of his batarian lieutenants said.

"Never seen guardians on a ship that small." Bekis said quietly to himself, now thinking out loud. "Maybe they are...what is the ship doing now?" He called out.

"Based on their trajectory, and speed, it looks like they plan to attach to our port-side airlock and board."

Bekis thought on this for a moment, then began barking orders. "Squad Bravo, stop with your looting and head to airlock two. We've got boarders to deal with. Charlie, you head to the engine room, make sure that stays secure in case bravo royally fucks up. Alpha, you come to the bridge, same reason as Charlie. Delta and echo squads, deal with those fucking mercs and then meet up with bravo to clear the enemy ship."

"We're gonna make these fucks regret messing with the Blue Suns."

…

"Hurry up you maggots, set up! I don't want these assholes taking three steps onto our ship!" Legionary Veleus bellowed, the grizzled turian smacking one of his troopers up the back of the head for good measure as squad bravo moved into position around airlock two.

Trooper Ghanis grumbled and rubbed the back of his head as he fell in line with the other members of the squad in standard defensive formation. Two members of bravo, turian troopers armed with shotguns and slightly stronger shields, moved up to take cover in recessed alcoves near the door to the airlock, ready to jump out and blast the first idiots through the door. The legionary moved up and took cover alongside two other batarian troopers a bit further back, where their assault rifles would be able to lay down good covering fire. And Ghanis was the farthest from the door, taking cover in a doorway with a clear line-of-sight for his missile launcher.

This was, of course, fine with him. He preferred to be as far away from combat as possible.

"Alright boys, the Captain says that the enemy ship has attached. As soon as that door opens up, give 'em hell!" Legionary Veleus shouted, and all the men tensed up, sights aiming at the door and fingers on triggers.

It was quiet then, as the mercenaries listened for the sound of the lock on the door to chime, letting them know the enemy was coming.

The chime sounded.

The doors opened, and bravo squad opened fire, filling the open doorway with thousands of hyper accelerated grains of metal.

It took a moment to realize that there was nothing in the doorway.

The fire from the blue suns pattered out, confusion entering the minds of most of the recruits.

Then something stepped into the door.

It looked like a human, but it was massive. The...thing stood as tall as a YMIR mech, at least eight feet tall. Its form was encased in black armor, with a silver left arm. Its right leg looked off, as it ended not with a boot, but what looked like a mechanical, human foot. Its right eye was off too, the sleek curve of the head interrupted by a block of metal with a whirring, glowing red lens on the front where the eye would be.

In its hands, the mech (it must have been some sort of mech, the mercenaries had decided individually) it held a strange, belt-fed cannon-like weapon, just as bulky and large as it's wielder.

For a split second, the Suns were struck motionless by the appearance, before Veleus let out a battle cry and opened up on the mech, the rest following suit, with one dumbass stepping out of cover for a better shot.

But by then it was too late.

Faster than should have been possible, the cannon snapped up and began to fire.

The blast of shrapnel that exploded from the barrel of the frag cannon instantly shredded the shields of the standing batarian, and a second shot moments later blasted him off his feet in pieces. The weapon boomed as the massive armored form advanced, blasts of shrapnel suppressing the remaining troopers with ARs. Ghanis popped out quickly and sent a poorly aimed missile at the mech, diving back into cover as the weapon was turned on him.

The missile proved useful though, as it slammed into the chest of the advancing mech, staggering it for a moment. The turian shotgunners tried to seize the moment provided as the fusillade stopped, jumping out of cover to blast the mech with twin blasts from their weapons, sending it back a step. But before they could press their advantage, another massive shape erupted from the doorway, nearly identical to the first (save the out-of-place cybernetics), but wielding a strange, bulky pistol with a glowing heat sink on the top, and a fucking _sword_ , of all things.

However, whoever said melee weapons had no place in modern war had not seen this thing move, as in a moment, it closed the distance to the first turian and with barely any effort cleaved him in two with his glowing, curved blade.

The second turian turned frantically to this new threat, letting out a shot that the new blocked with a small shielded mounted on the forearm of his pistol-arm. It turned, raised its pistol, and fired.

Then a miniature sun was birthed from the barrel if the pistol, flew across the hallway, and buried itself in the turians chest, the projectile knifing through his barriers in an instant. The alien barely let out strangled scream as the plasma bolt burned through his body and exited his back, punching through the wall behind him before finally dispersing.

"Fall back, fall back!" Legionary Veleus called out, panic entering his voice as he witnessed the brutal slaughter of three of his men so easily. "Regroup at the bridge!"

The other two batarian troopers broke and ran almost instantly, quickly followed by the Legionary. Ghanis popped out again to try and give some covering fire as his teammates ran, but before he could even get off a shot, more booming footsteps heralded _another_ pair of giants exiting the airlock. These two had massive rifles with strange, top-mounted attachments, one which appeared to be a flamethrower, while the other was unfamiliar. The pair fired at the batarian troopers, great gouts of flame issuing from the mouths of their weapons as the mercenaries exploded from the impact of their bursts. The Legionary got a few more steps before a solid slug from the first hostile tore him in half, his screams swiftly silenced by a single shot from the massive rifles.

Ghanis dropped his weapon and turned to run, whatever shreds of bravery the batarian possessed obliterated by the slaughter of his squad. However, before he could go more than a few steps, a sharp pain hit the back of his knee, causing him to cry out and fall.  
He looked down at his leg and saw a knife buried there. Confusion fought with fear as he looked back at the airlock, to see a human in black armor standing there, hand outstretched, three knives hanging behind his head pointed at the fallen batarian, with no biotics in sight. Beside him was a woman, who then vanished with a pop and then appeared again a moment latter straddling the fallen alien. Ghanis looked at her with terror, and she grinned in response.

Then, the woman's hand glowed with a blue aura, and she punched through Ghanis' armor and into his chest, tearing out his heart before his very eyes.

In the brief moment before Ghanis passed out from bloodloss (and, y'know, not having a heart), he wondered what in the _fuck_ they had gotten themselves into.

…

Marthas calmly walked onto the alien ship, flanked by the Apothecary and Sergeant Osiris, just in time to see Tellara rip the heart from the last surviving xenos. Brother Eric Gorvax of the Steel Confessors turned, his chest armor slightly damaged, and ejected the spent belt from his frag cannon with a thunk as the rest of the squad secured the surrounding area.

"Beach head secured, Inquisitor." He said, his voice sounding somewhat mechanical. "Awaiting further instructions."

 **A/N: Well, that was fun. I have been waiting to write that boarding scene for months now; it was actually one of the scenes that inspired me to create this story in the first place.**

 **Now, for some questions/responses:**

 **Superemopoers: Yknow, I just realized that. Imagine how much GW could make if they would relesase a female farseer, considering how popular they seem to be among the community. And I can understand that sentiment. If you'd like a more Grimdark inquisitor in Mass Effect, I would suggest** _Faith and Wit_ **by A Cynical Owl. Might be more to your likeings**

 **Axcel: Thanks again for padding my reviews man. The money should be in your account by now. I was wrong in the Eldar height thing, and that has been fixed, thanks for the correction. On the emperor's height though, asumming the average height of humans on 2182 is like ours today, aroudn 6 ft, a 12 ft tall man, as you say is the emperors height, would be around twice the height of a man.**

 **Mattmaster112: Thanks for the feedback. I'll try to tone it down in the future. And I will admit, the lack of slaves and mechanization was partially my bias, but I also made the decision for logistical reasons (the combined crew of these five ships at full complement would be more than some alliance colonies) and to ease the transition to the ME verse somewhat, without the threat of costly crew revolts.**

 **So once again, thanks for reading. Follow, fave, review, and I'll see you in the next chapter.**

Imperator senatus et populi Romani Dinosaurs!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 _Get that camera outta my face! Listen, you ever even_ **seen** _a Deathwatch operative before, kid? No? Then believe me when I say, you sure as fuck don't want to. I've only seen one of those monsters and that was more than enough for a lifetime. It was right after the bastard got through slaughtering his way through three squads of Blood Pack krogan with, I shit you not, a_ **chainsaw sword** _, including the battlemaster I'd been hired to kill. The only reason I'm still around to answer your dumbass questions is he had more important things to do that cut my wrinkly old ass in half with said chainsaw sword. That…thing…was nothing but pure, condensed violence. It was like an aura that surrounded that armor; a stink of countless deaths and a lifetime of conflict._ (Shudders) _I'll be a happy man if I never have to see him or any of his friends ever again. And some advice: if you want to retain the limbs you have, I'd advise you to do the same._

 _-Zaeed Massani, in the expose_ Deathwatch: More than Men.

 _Somewhere in the Terminus Systems, onboard the_ Will of Kaine _._

Farseer Reyalla was, for the first time in four centuries, speechless.

 _How did I miss something this momentous, this life changing for us?_ She thought. _First the Tyranids, then this? Am I losing touch with the strings?_

The farseer was currently sitting at the table of the Will of Kaines' main strategy room. On her left was Autarch Donlon, leader of the remaining military of craftworld Dan-Varr, who was likewise dumbstruck, his mouth moving slightly as he tried to articulate how he was feeling. To her left was Captain Terris, who was reacting even worse that the veteran warrior, his eyes bugging out and darting between the object on the table before him and the three eldar sitting across the table from the craftworlders.

Of course, the object of this shock (and now-emerging cautious joy) was, like with Carles, three soulstones that lay on the table before the craftworld eldar, and the distinct lack of a daemonic entities faint pull upon their very souls.

Reyalla finally pulled her gaze from her soulstone and looked at the three Harlequins across from her. All were garbed in the quartered holosuits of the Masque of the Shrouded Stars, but also wore the traditional garb associated with their respective roles.

Sitting directly opposite her was Shadowseer Yldaer, the most senior of the dedicated psykers among the Masque of the Shrouded Stars. The woman had left her blank, faceless mask on for this meeting, but Reyalla could sense a faint amusement from her. She had a hood of with the red and white domino pattern of the Masque on her head, and her mistave was leaning against the back of her chair.

To her right, across from the captain, was Troupmaster Lenshor, leader of the Twilight troup and the Masque itself. He wore the traditional grinning mask of Cegorach, as well as a long overcoat of deep blue, edged with dominoes.

The last Harlequin, and the one who made her the most uneasy, was also the only one who went without a mask. The Solitair, who had yet to give a name, sat across from Autarch Donlon, a faint smile on his face as he watched their reactions. Despite his assurances that they would not be endangered by conversing with him, Reyalla could not shake her sense of discomfort around the man, especially with her gifts picking up the strange aura around him.

Finally, after an almost embarrassingly long time, Reyalla recovered enough composure to ask. "How...how is this possible? I cannot feel her…" She stammered to the Shadowseer, wincing inside at the how weak she sounded.

"I believe our colleague can explain better than we." Yldaer said, gesturing to the Solitair. He smiled warmly as the three turned their intense gazes to him.

"Yes, I can." He said. "We, along with the imperials who aided us in our fight against the forces of chaos, have been sent to another reality, separated from the grasp of She Who Thirsts, to begin Eldar society anew."

It was quiet for a moment as this information sank in, before Captain Terris voiced the thought all were having.

"How?"

The Solitaire smiled again, sadly this time. "It took a lot of time, effort, subterfuge, and death for this to come to pass, not to mention the cooperation of the Laughing God, lady Isha, and the Corpse-Emperor of the Imperium." He stood, and in true Harlequin fashion, began to weave a tale.

"Since the Fall itself, Cegorach has been searching for a way to save the eldar people from their inevitable death in the Rama Dadre. However, our lord is no fool, and new that there was a chance that he could fail. So he began to search for a way that, if he could not save the eldar as a whole, he could save them in part. It took nearly ten thousand years but eventually he discovered the existence of alternate realities, linked to our own through cracks in the warp. He looked through these cracks one after another until he found a place where the Eldar could grow, could thrive. However, he lacked the power to send any meaningful number of our people through, so he went to the only other friendly beings he could: Isha and the Emperor, for aid."

"Isha, the ever-loving mother, agreed immediately, but there was only so much strength she could provide. The Emperor, who would have to provide the bulk of the energy for the transfer, proved more difficult. The Laughing God argued and debated with the Corpse-God's fractured mind for a thousand turns of the world before an agreement was reached. A group of more...tolerant, imperials would be sent with us, to safeguard the survival of Humanity in some small way."

"And so the three bided their time, working through mortal servants, both knowing and unknowing, and gathering strength to pour into the crack bit by bit, as well as influencing events to bring us, the imperials, and the Chaos marines into the sector of real space where the crack was nearest. The rest played out as planned, and as such we are free."

The Solitaire smiled as he finished his tale, but Autarch Donlan rose to his feet with an expression of rage.

"So you knew the Great Devourer was coming towards the Craftworld, and did NOTHING? We could have save millions of people if you had stopped your plotting for a moment and…"

"Autarch, calm yourself!" Reyalla snapped standing as well.

"We did not no off these events any more than you did, cousin." Said the Troupmaster, his voice a soft whisper that still managed to fill the room. "We only learnt of this plan shortly before you did, though we had a more...positive reaction than you."

"Well then, how did the Solitaire know about the plan?" Donlan said accusingly, calmer now, but still angry.

"I was told by Cegorach himself." Came the reply. This caused all heads to turn.

"While most everyone was knocked out by the transition between realities, I was not. While we traveled, our lord appeared to me, told me of what had occurred, and instructed me to give his message." The man looked each of the craftworlders in the eye. "He said, _though you are free from Her, the scars of the beast's Caress will always lay upon you. Do not forget that, and the Eldar shall rule once more._ "

With that, the three Harlequins stood. "That is all we have to share. If you need anything more, you know where to find us." Yldaer said, and the three left.

The two men in the room looked at Reyalla, naturally deferring to the farseer in their uncertainty.

She sighed to herself, just as confused as them, but unable (or more, unwilling) to show it.

"Captain, work on getting the ships back to combat readiness. Autarch, take some aspect warriors over to the Craftmoon and make sure everything is fine. If you need me, I shall be consulting the runes."

The two nodded, and Reyalla turned to the door.

Asuryan, help me find guidance. She thought as the wraithbone doors slid shut behind her.

…

 _Blue Suns Raider_ Malice, _somewhere in the terminus systems._

 _Similar to human anatomy internally; two lungs, heart, etc. Also, similarity in size, body structure, and posture. From a distance and in full armor, likely indistinguishable from humans. Have similar combat capabilities to humans as well, though four eyes may allow for greater range of vision. Skin is rougher than human, akin to that of some amphibians, such as the Reloxian Chirping Toad; in fact, it shares a similar coloration. Further study necessary, but initial analysis suggests that this xeno species is equivalent in threat level to an unmodified human._

Epistolary Persax rose from his kneeling position over the corpse of one of the aliens they had slaughtered in the boarding of the ship, finished with his impromptu autopsy. The Blood Raven looked down the hall, deeper into the ship, and seeing nothing, walked back towards the airlock and his fellow marines.

The Inquisitor had been quick to split up the boarding party once the airlock was secured. He had led one group towards the bridge, while another was sent towards the engine room. They had heard an explosion and distant gunfire then, and the Twins had been sent to see what that was, while he was left here with two other marines to make sure their beachhead remained secure.

Alongside Raan, Marthas had ordered Brother Gorvax, the squad heavy-weapons specialist, and Brother Finar Herus, a Celestial Lion and the squad Explosives expert, to remain behind. The two marines were currently standing on either sides of the closed airlock doors, weapons lowered but still ready. The two were conversing quietly, still alert for potential threats.

"Their weapons caused negligible damage to my armor, even the shotguns only staggered me. Only the missile caused any noticeable damage, and I calculate that it would have taken a further three hits minimum before my armor was breached." Gorvax was saying, his voice somewhat flat and mechanical.

Finar nodded in agreement. "And their armor was pitiful, by my guess only slightly more effective than flak armor. Although, I did notice that all of them appeared to have some kind of energy shield, which was capable of holding up to a shot from my bolter." The Lion held up his combi-melta for emphasis. "It is possible that they have more powerful such shields. Epistolary." Finar greeted the senior marine with a respectful bow of the head, echoed by Gorvax. "Finished with your analysis?"

Raan nodded, taking up position between the two marines, watchful for potential counter attack. They still had no way of knowing how many xeons were on board the ship, or what surprises they may have hidden.

"What is your conclusion on the anatomy of the aliens?" Gorvax inquired, his monotone voice still managing to convey a sense of interest.

"The four-eyes are of little consequence; they appear similar in their physical capabilities to normal humans. The Avians are more sturdy, and have natural claws, but should still be of little threat in a physical confrontation."

This conversation was part of a kind of ritual that the three marines would go through whenever they encountered a new xenos species. Gorvax would analyze their weapons, Finar would look at their defensive capabilities, and Raan would give a cursory examination of the xenos biology before the corpses were turned over to Magos Zerrus for a more thorough examination. It had begun through offhand comments, and had over time evolved into the current state. The discussions were quite satisfying to Raan, especially considering his heritage.

Part of the Blood Ravens motto was, after all, Knowledge is Power.

…

Deeper in the ship, two marines moved slowly and steadily towards the stern, where it was assumed the engines resided.

Apothecary Theoverus held his bolter tight to his shoulder, covering his partner as he advanced towards a closed door. Brother Tyrion Sar'al slid into cover beside the door, looking back and nodding towards Theo. He nodded back and his grip on the bolter tightened ever so slightly as Sar'al triggered the green holographic lock on the door.

The door slid open to reveal an empty hallway.

Both marines remained on high alert as they pushed forwards, eidetic memories forming a map of the ship as they moved through.

"We should be close to the rear now. That door ahead likely leads to the engine room." Sar'al said through the vox, gesturing with his combi flamer.

The Salamander's voice deep and rough, a fitting match for its ancient owner. If the rest of the squad was to be believed, Sar'al was older than some of the older Dreadnoughts in the service of the Sons of Guilliman. Theo did not entirely buy that, but there was no denying that the son of Nocturne was old, and a masterful warrior befitting such experience.

The two marines stacked up on either side of the closed door, this one bearing an orange symbol they had figured out meant the door was locked. Sar'al removed his helmet, revealing a bald, weathered head crisscrossed with old scars that stood out against his onyx skin. He closed his eyes and pressed an ear against the door, a faint red glow emitting from between his closed eyelids as he listened.

A moment passed, then Sar'al's eyes snapped open and he straightened, donning his helmet once more.

"You heard something?" It was more a statement than a question.

"Voices." Sar'al confirmed. "At least three."

"If they are the same kinds as those we encountered at the airlock, this should prove no challenge." Theo said as he pulled a krak grenade from his belt, Sar'al doing the same.

"Better to err on the side of caution in any case," said the older marine as they affixed the anti-armor grenades to the door and stood back some ways. He pulled another, different grenade from his sizable cluster of explosives as Theo aimed at his grenade on the door.

"Ready. On your mark." Sar'al said, igniting the pilot light on his flamer attachment and getting a good grip on the grenade in his hand.

Theo waited a beat, then fired twice.

The bolts found their marks, triggering the krak grenades. The shaped explosive blasted the door open violently, leaving a massive hole. Through this hole Sar'al hurled his grenade, the flash-charge detonating in a violent blast of light and sound that resulted in pained cries from the inhabitants of the room.

The two marines stormed through the opening with weapons raised. A quick scan identified the hostiles in the room, seven in total. There were three four-eyes in light armor with rifles clustered up behind a control console directly ahead. To the left was an avian wearing heavier armor with a shotgun and strange blue holo-armor off, still stunned by the flash-charge. Lastly, there were two four-eyes on a walkway overhead armed with missile launchers alongside another avian with a rifle and the same holo-armor as the one on the ground.

The two marines took this in in the same half-second, and in the next half second knew what to do.

Sar'al unleashed his flamer on the three aliens cowering behind the control console, the blast of burning promethium rolling over the cover and setting them ablaze. The three xenos let out screams of agony and ran from cover, their arms flailing against the flames in a futile effort to put them out.

In the same instant, Theo dropped to a knee and lined up on the xenos overhead, firing a three-round burst at the leftmost missile trooper. The first bolt was absorbed by the creature's shields and sent it staggering against the far railing, the second bolt taking it in the throat, resulting in an explosive decapitation. The third hit in the chest, sending the alien over the railing, falling with a splat to the floor below. Theoverus quickly switched targets to the other missile trooper as the avian above began firing bursts into Sar'al, doing as much damage as if he were squirting water at the deathwatch marine.

Theo's second burst was dead-center, the first shot again absorbed by shields, the second and third blasting the xenos' chest open in a spray of red. The Avian followed shortly after as Sar'al opened fire, the explosive shells sending sprays of blue blood flying as the bolts punched through shields and the plate of holo-armor covering the creature's chest.

An angry shout to Theo's left brought his attention back to the last alien, the shotgun-wielding avian. The xeno fired a blast at the apothecary, angrily advancing on the marine who had helped slaughter his squad.

The blast staggered Theo slightly, but it mainly pissed him off. The alien was well within melee range by this point, and Theo didn't even bother reaching for his chainsword. With a thought, he activated the small chain blade on his narthecium and stabbed the roaring surgical instrument into the avian's chest.

It let out a strangled gasp as the chainblade carved out its insides, grabbing at the Son's chestplate. The marine sneered and shoved the alien to the ground.

He raised his bolter to the avian's face as it's dark blue blood poured from the rent in it's armor, and growled out, "Suffer not the alien to live."

A single booming shot sounded, and Theo activated his vox. "Inquisitor, we have secured the engine room."

…

Farseer Reyalla sat in her quarters in the lotus position, eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration. Her runes, carved into the knucklebones of a Barsian Dragon, slowly orbited her head, glowing with eldritch power.

She had been swimming the tides of this strangely calm warp for almost a half hour now, and was still chasing the most tenuous strings of fate. She was growing frustrated with her lack of progress, of a direction to take her people, and so she decided to take a moment and relax.

Reyalla released her chase of the few strings she had found and soared through the sea of souls; for that is what this reality's warp was, not a tempestuous maelstrom of chaos and daemons, but simply a reflection of the material realm, and the emotions and feelings of those sentient beings that inhabited it.

 _This is what my ancestors saw, when they first reached out with their minds under the guidance of the Gods._ Reyalla thought. _Untouched by the corrupting presence of the chaos gods. It is...peaceful._

It was also nice to not have to deal with the annoying buzz of that damnable imperial lighthouse. Though she had a feeling the inquisitor would not look at it that way when he inevitably called upon his abilities.

As the farseer continued to float through the tides of the sea, she encountered the scattered fragments of memories, those of the native inhabitants of this reality. Curious to see what kinds of beings had grown in this place, she touched one, and was suddenly surrounded by a lush, warm forest.

A waterfall roared in the distance, and before her a river flowed, sunlight shimmering across the water. Before her, on a small beach, was what appeared to be a family of aliens. Two small ones, amphibious in nature, were laughing and playing in the shallow water near the shore, while two larger ones looked on; one an amphibian like the juveniles, the other a hard-skinned, avian looking creature. In the distance, she saw a vessel rise above the trees and soar into the sky, and an overwhelming sense of peace filled her.

Reyalla removed herself from the memory, feeling strangely content. She moved on to another, and this time found herself on the bridge of a strange starship, surrounded by blue and purple skinned aliens who bore a disturbing similarity to female humans or eldar, and wore strange uniforms with a military feel to them. They were all looking out the front viewport, gaping in awe at something. Reyalla looked herself, and could not help but be impressed at the sight before her.

It was a massive space station, consisting of a five large 'arms' connected to a central ring. By the size of the small fleet of ships that were floating near one of the arms, she guessed the station had to be around fifty kilometers long; an impressive construction to be sure, but still only a third of the size of a major craftworld like Ulthwe.

Reyalla removed herself from that vision and found another. This one was older than the first, yet newer than the second.

It was also drastically different from the two before.

She stood in a great plain of mud, makeshift lines of barbed wire scattered about, and the telltale cratering of artillery fire scarring the landscape. In the distance, she heard the deep thump of heavy guns being fired, unsettlingly similar to the times her cohort had been shelled by the Imperial Guard.

 _War._ She thought with a sigh as she gazed about. _Of course there is war. Did I truly expect anything else?_

Before she could continue her musings, a shrill whistle sounded behind her. Reyalla turned, and saw for the first time the long trench that seemed to stretch from horizon to horizon.

And the massive line of screaming humans that were charging towards her.

 _What?_ The eldar though with confusion as the line barreled past her incorporeal form. The telltale chattering of heavy machineguns firing soon cut through the air, and the human's screams of anger turned to screams of pain. The men were quickly cut down as the weapons scythed through their lines, and the charge turned quickly to a retreat as the greatly reduced line of humans began to flee back to their own trenches. One man ran towards Reyalla, only to be struck by a bullet in the back. He cried out in pain and fell, rolling onto his back as he did.

The human looked at her, and to the eldar's surprise, his eyes widened as he saw her. She was nearly as shocked as he, that she had appeared to this human ( _whose memory I must be seeing_ , she realized) who had lived so long ago.

"Qui es-tu…" The man whispered in a language she did not understand. "Êtes-vous un ... un ange? Avez-vous venir me prendre à Dieu?"

Before Reyalla could even attempt a response, the long-dead human's memory faded, and she found herself back in the sea of souls, with a predatory spirit uncomfortably close to her. She flashed her power and the spirit fled, leaving her to consider what she had just seen.

Humans! Humans native to this reality, for there was no way that memory had come from any member of the Imperial crew, not this quickly. That was...strangely reassuring, as humans were an understandable threat, familiar, unlike the other species she had seen.

The another thought struck her. _If there are humans here...then, perhaps there are eldar as well! Eldar who have yet to fall, who we can save!_

Excited by this prospect, Reyalla extended her awareness and sought out the familiar patterns of eldar memories, blocking out the new, crisp thoughts of her crew, and looking for something older as a starting point.

Soon enough, she found one. She could tell it was an old memory, nearly a million years old, and she jumped in.

And found a scene she was all too familiar with.

It was the bridge of an eldar ship, different from the design she was used to, but sharing the elegant lines of all eldar craft.

Unfortunately, this beauty was marred by all the fires and dead bodies.

The bridge crew was all but dead, bodies scattered about the room, burned beyond recognition by fires, shredded by shrapnel, or twisted and broken into unnatural shapes. One man survived, the captain of the vessel, and he sat in his command chair, bleeding heavily from a wound in his chest as he gazed out the front viewport.

Reyalla tore her gaze from the destruction on the bridge to follow his gaze, to see yet more horrors.

A fleet of eldar warships, hundreds strong, burned in high orbit over a world whose surface was wracked by the scars of orbital bombardment and occasionally set alight by massive explosions. Flying through this graveyard of metal and wraithbone were hundreds, thousands of starships, appearing as mechanical squids that sent lances of angry red light at the few surviving eldar starships, which still danced through the hail of fire despite heavy damage. The ships fired back, each pulse of brilliant white slicing an enemy vessel in twain, but Reyalla could see that this was a loosing fight, and soon the sheer numbers of the monstrous ships would overwhelm the thin line of defending ships.

"No." She whispered. "No, it's happening again."

"Farseer?"

Reyalla turned to lock eyes with the injured captain, and saw his face brighten slightly as she responded to him.

"You come from the future, scanning the tides. I know not how, for the _Eldarin_ were to die with the home world, but it does not matter. Your presence shows that our people will survive, and that is all that I can ask for."

Reyalla's horror grew as she turned back to the screen, as the realization set in that this was not some colony in a far-reaching empire. That would have been bad enough.

But no, this was the home world of the Eldar of this universe, and her people were about to be snuffed out in their cradle before they had the chance to reach out and tame the stars.

She turned back to the captain, but he stared back blankly at her, his eyes void of the life they once held. She looked back at the planet, horror filling her, before she noticed a bright blue light growing on the surface.

In an instant, exploded upwards, spearing a score of the foul destroyer ships before arrowing towards the system's blue star.

 _DESTROYERS!_ A massive psychic voice cried out, sending Reyalla to her knees with it's power. _"KNOW THIS! THOUGH THE ELDAR DIE THIS DAY, WE DO NOT GO QUIETLY INTO THE DARKNESS! WE ARE BROKEN, BUT WE SHALL NOT BOW! THE DAY WILL COME WHEN YOU TO SHALL FALL INTO OBLIVION, AND ON THAT DAY THE WE SHALL STAND AT THE DOORS OF HELL TO GREET YOU. UNTIL THEN,_ _ **BEGONE FROM OUR HOME!**_

And with that last word, a massive psychic explosion ripped from the surface of the planet like a shockwave, blasting hundreds of the enemy ships into shards as every still living eldar poured their energy into one last strike at the foe that had killed them. And just as the memory began, at last, to fade, Farseer Reyalla saw that beautiful blue star that had shone over the eldar homeworld begin to expand.

…

Reyalla snapped out of her meditation with a jerk, falling on her back in shock at the horror, the murder she had just seen through the eyes of a dead man. She felt tears well in her eyes as she thought of all the people, all the children destroyed by this unnamed enemy.

"At last, you have found the key."

Reyalla's head spun to the source of the quiet voice, and saw that she was no longer alone in her room.

Sitting at the foot of her bed, dressed in a simple white robe, was an eldar woman that absolutely radiated with power. Her face was young and beautiful, but her cheeks were stained with the wetness of recently shed tears. Her hair was raven black, and her eyes brilliant blue. And it was those eyes that told Reyalla that this was no mere eldar. They were old, so very, very old, and spoke of horrors, loss, and sacrifice the likes of which she could never understand.

Reyalla rose from her position on the floor and looked at the woman with awe as the realization of who she was set in, and tears began to well in her eyes.

"Lady Isha?" She stammered.

The goddess smiled kindly at Reyalla as the farseer sank to her knees before her. Isha gently reached down and grasped the eldar by her shoulders, pulling her to her feet as she herself stood.

"You need not kneel before me, my child. I am not truly here; this is but a fragment of power, sent to give you a direction, and help you connect with the strings once more."

Reyalla wiped the wetness from her eyes and nodded. "Very well, my lady. What would you have us do?"

"You saw a vision of your cousins from this reality, yes? Of their end?"

"Yes, that was what brought me back from the seas."

"The foes that destroyed your kin in this place still exist, and soon they will once again march across the galaxy, purging it of all sentient life. That is what happened to those eldar, and what has happened every fifty thousand years for the last billion."

"Like the necrons…" Reyalla whispered to herself. "But my lady, if this is true, what hope do we have of avoiding their fate? They had hundreds of warships to defend their home world, and yet they were overrun. We have four! Oh, my lady, I fear you have delivered us from Slannesh just to place us again before the blades of an unstoppable foe."

Isha smiled again, this time somewhat sadly. "No, my child, you have the strength to best this foe. Those eldar were set upon by the destroyers just as they were first venturing into the stars. And yet even then, they single-handedly destroyed more of those abominations than the last hundred species that fought and died before them. Even as children barely grown, they out matched the destroyers in nearly all fields of technology, as those mechanical beasts have trapped themselves in a cycle of inferiority with their arrogance. And you, my poor, battered children, have had millions of years of war and strife to forge you into a people of conflict." Isha raised her hand and lightly caressed Reyalla's cheek with the tenderness of a mother, before her eyes hardened and she spoke with conviction. "Those abominations will fall before you like wheat before the scythe when they finally reveal themselves, and you still have time to prepare. When they come, you and the Imperials will be beacons of hope to the species of this galaxy, carving through the foe with the grace of a Banshee and the power of a Wraithlord."

Then she smiled again and took Reyalla's hands in her own. "But my time grows short. I will show you the strings, so you may guide your people to better times, and to the end of these Reapers."

And without any further warning, a massive rush of power flowed into Reyalla and she reared back as images beyond count flashed through her mind. In a moment it was over, and she found herself once again alone, with just the echo of Isha's fingers brushing her cheek to show that the goddess had ever been there.

However, she had more pressing issues to deal with at the moment. The last images the goddess had shown her still shone brightly in her mind, and she knew she had little time to alter events. She extended her arm and her singing spear flew from its mount on the wall with a thought.

The farseer strode from her quarters with purpose, surprising the two dire avengers who stood guard outside her quarters.

"Farseer, what is it?" One of them asked. "Have you received a vision?"

"Yes. Both of you come with me. I will have need of your skills. We must move quickly, or risk loosing much in the times ahead." Reyalla said without breaking stride.

"Yes farseer!" The avengers said, then quickly moved to follow.

…

 _These ships are strange; don't you think?_

 _Well I would think that they should be; they are xeno craft, after all._

 _I know that, but they seem strangely...familiar. I don't know, it's just a feeling._

 _You should focus on the mission at hand, Tel. We don't know what these aliens might have hiding onboard._

Tellara huffed quietly as she severed the mental link with her brother. She should have expected that he would not understand. Of the two of them, he was always more calm and rational, more inclined to trust what he could see and hear before a gut feeling. Of course, she had managed to get him to loosen up quite a bit in recent years, but he was still annoyingly rigid on missions.

The twins were creeping through the other vessel now, having made their way off the raider in search of the source of the gunfire they had heard at the airlock. This ship was slightly different in design from the attacking ship, as well as being noticeably cleaner.

Except for the places where the attackers had gunned down one of the small, round aliens that seemed to have been the crew of this ship. In those spots, there was a _lot_ of blood.

Tellara was beginning to grow impatient when her brother held up a warning hand as they reached a T-junction. She froze immediately, her elongated ears twitching as they listened for whatever had given her brother pause.

Moments later her superior hearing picked up what Varsius had heard.

Voices, speaking in a tongue she could not understand.

The twins locked eyes with each other and exchanged thoughts in a moment, before nodding in agreement at their course of action.

Varsius drew his shuriken pistol from his side as his knives floated from their sheaths with a thought to hover behind him. Tellara on the other hand varnished with a quiet popping noise, appearing moments later on the other side of the junction.

The two peered around to see a group of a xenos wearing the same armor as those killed at the gate. The dozen avian and four-eyed xenos surrounded two other, unfamiliar aliens of different species as well as another four-eyed. The last captive was (to their great surprise) a single older human. These four wore different armor, and were in restraints.

Tellara looked over to Varsius. _What do we do about the prisoners?_ She queried.

 _Ignore them until the armed ones are dealt with. We should keep the prisoners alive if we can. I think the Inquisitor will want to talk to the human at the very least._

 _Agreed._ Tellara thought.

A moment later, they began their attack.

…

 _How the fuck did we end up like this?_ Priora thought as she trudged through the corridors of the _Delightful Deal_ in shackles, surrounded by Blue Suns. She looked over at her teammates, similarly bound, and couldn't help but feel like she had failed them.

 _Well, at least we made them work for it_. The asari thought as the moved towards a T-junction. Beside her, Verris was limping badly, green blood leaking from the marksman's leg.

"Hey Gerre, might want to give the salarian some medigel. Won't do if he dies before we can get 'im back to Omega." On of the trailing batarian troopers called out to the centurion who was leading the group.

"I could deal with that if you'd take off these damn cuffs." Said Oceno, holding up her bound hands to her fellow batarian.

"Shut it." The batarian centurion growled in response. "Kuric, deal with the-"

The centurion's order was cut of with a wet gurgle as a flash of silver shot into his throat. The rest of the Suns stood shocked as their commander turned, his eyes wide in shock, to see the blade buried in the man's throat.

They didn't have time to recover from their shock. As the centurion slumped to the ground a human in black armor stepped out from the corner and opened fire on the group with a strange looking pistol. The weapon ripped through the shields of the two foremost suns and tore into their bodies, the projectiles ripping off hunks of flesh.

The other mercs shouted and surprise and returned fire, forcing the man back into cover as they shoved the prisoners out of the way. Bereft of cover, two turians with shotguns began pushing up on the suppressed human while the others held him back with fire from their assault rifles.

Then, at the rear of the group, one of the men cried out. Priora looked back to see another human, a woman, with some kind of wrist mounted dagger had appeared behind the mercs and had stabbed the weapon into one man's chest. He writhed in pain as an abnormal amount of blood sprayed from his mouth, somehow most of the liquid missing his attacker.

"Shit! There's one behind us!" A batarian cried out, wheeling to bring his rifle to bear on this new threat. The woman's other hand shot out, glowing with a blue aura as she hit the merc's neck with a sideways chop. Priora's eyes widened in surprise as the woman's hand sliced through the man's neck like a knife through butter, the decapitated corpse hitting the ground moments before the head.

The asari snapped herself out of her mild daze and decided to take action. She flexed the ezo nodes in her arms and used her biotics to enhance her strength, easily snapping the flimsy restraints and launching a warp at the nearest merc. The turian let out a cry as the biotic power smashed into his back, beginning to eat away at his armor. He turned just in time to receive a bioticaly enhanced punch to his mandible.

The blow was so powerful it snapped the man's head to the side with enough force to break his neck. Priora wasted no time, grabbing the man's weapon, a Tempest smg, and opened up on another merc.

Nikolas acted almost the same instant that his Asari comrade did. He slipped a serrated combat knife from it's hidden sheath in his gauntlet and cut his restraints before plunging the blade into the neck of the nearest merc.

Oceno didn't even bother with a weapon, tackling the nearest batarian and throttling the life out of him with an almost manic gleam of anger in her four eyes.

However, Verris had eyes only for the newcomers. With the keen, analytical gaze of a practiced marksman, the salarian watched as the woman ducked and dodged between the blue suns, her melee weapons making a mockery of the armor of her foes. As he watched, she grabbed a turian by the throat with her glowing hand and ripped through it with barely a discernible effort. _She looks like a dancer._ He thought, as he applied a dose of medigel to his injured leg.

Verris looked back at the other end of the hall to see that the male attacker had drawn a sword from his back and had just dispatched the second shotgun-armed turian with said blade. Another Sun drew a bead on him, but before he could fire, the man thrust an arm at the batarian, and a knife shot from the man right into the merc's throat, moving just slow enough not to trigger his barriers. With a gesture, the blade flew back to the man, now stained with blue blood, and hovered with a half dozen other knives behind him. _No sign of biotics?_ The salarian thought, mildly confused. _How does he move the blades?_

In moments, combining the devastating lethality of the two newcomers with the prisoners 'revolt', only a single blue sun was left. In desperation, he bowled into the female in black, knocking her down. The batarian grinned and leveled his shotgun, only for a bolt of biotic energy to to strike him and fling him bodily into the wall. He looked up into the barrel of a Tempest, then his world went black.

Priora sighed heavily as she executed the last merc. She looked to the fallen woman and walked towards her, extending a hand to help her up.

"Thanks for the save there. I don't know who you guys work for, but…"

Before the asari could finish her sentence, the woman vanished with a pop, only to reappear right behind her, glowing hand wrapped around her throat.

Nikolas and Oceno let out cries of anger and raised their weapons at the woman, only to find a knife hovering at their throats, the male's hand outstretched at the end of the hall.

The woman gestured with her other hand for the two to drop their weapons, and the two mercenaries begrudgingly complied. The woman pulled the tempest from Priora's hand, then vanished and reappeared again, this time beside her companion. Both drew their pistols and kept them trained on the four mercenaries. The man then sheathed his sword and raised a hand to his ear, speaking quietly with a low, rich voice.

" _Inquisitor, ut removeatur a Group de hyacintho xenos et armatae aliena captivos sumitur imperium coetus, ex quibus unus est homo. Quae praecepta sunt?_ "

The man spoke in a language that none of them could understand, and the mercs looked at each other with confusion. "Nikolas, do you recognize that language?" Oceno asked quietly.

The Russian shook his head, brows furrowed. "It doesn't sound like anything I've heard before."

"Why would humans be speaking an unknown language?" Priora said.

Then Verris whispered to them, "I don't think they are human, at least not entirely. Look at their ears."

Then, finally, the three saw the long, pointed ears the two had. Nokolas said something quietly in russian, while Oceno just looked more confused.

Whomever the man was talking to, he had aparently recieved an answer, as he nodded and spoke again. " _Intelligitur. Non tacebo usque ad locum advenerit._ "

He looked back at them, and the two gestured with their weapons for them to move to the wall.

Priora's heart sank and, seeing no other option, moved to comply as a bitter thought moved through her mind.

 _If I survive this, I'm never taking a job from a volus again._

 **A/N**

 _Another chapter, another slaughter. I love the smell of a good stomp in the morning._

 _This chapter was interesting to write, what with all the eldar bits. And now all but one member of squad Osiris has been formally introduced, so yay._

 _In other news, this story broke 100 followers. Wow. Just, thanks guys/girls/aliens/other. I hadn't yet had a story that's broken triple digits, so thanks to all those who made that possible._

 _I'll be trying to get out a new chapter every few months, but College can be an ass, so no promises. Thanks again to all those who follow, fave and review, and extra thanks to Species Unknown, who's left a review on every one of my chapters so far. Also thanks to Sabaton, who make great background music for writing fight scenes._

 _To all those who are new: Follow, Fave, review, and until next time;_

Imperator senatus et populi Romani Dinosaurs!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

" _It matters not how strait the gate,_

 _How charged with punishment the scroll,_

 _I am the master of my fate:_

 _I am the captain of my soul."_

 _William Earnest Henley,_ Echoes of Life and Death.

" _We all have a fate, young ones. But what that fate is depends entirely on your own choices."_

 _-Farseer Reyalla, on Fate._

…

 _Year 2183, planet Virmire, Cloning Facility_

The kodiak quickly shrank as the dropship fled the Virmire cloning facility, chased by bursts of rifle fire and sniper rounds.

"Damn it!" Shepard yelled in frustration as Saren's ship vanished from sight. "We almost had him."

"Cowardly bastard." Wrex growled as he glared at the vanishing ship, racking the slide of his claymore angrily.

"Well, at the very least we got in a few good hits on him." Garus said walking to stand beside Shepard, his rifle resting at ease. "I don't think Saren will underestimate us again." The turian chuckled darkly. "Which admittedly is probably a bad thing."

"In any case, the area seems clear. We should call Joker to drop off the bomb." Liara said.

"Right. We just need Ashley to take out that AA gun and we'll be good to go." Jane said.

A moment later, Ashley's voice came up over the coms. "Commander, we've taken out the gun and the rest of the salarians have gone on to meet up with Kirahe at the extraction point. I've just got a few charges to set to make sure this gun stays down until we're away."

"Understood Lieutenant. Joker, you catch that?"

"Loud and clear commander. Coming in now, ready to get this nuclear firecracker off my ship."

"Your ship, Joker?"

"Yes yes, you're the captain. Woo hoo, I get it. Jesus you're worse than my fifth grade English teacher."

Shepard chuckled as the familiar shape of the Normandy swooped from over the horizon to hover above the courtyard. The ramp to the cargo bay lowered and Kaiden and Tali walked out alongside a few marines who were carrying the drive core-turned-nuke.

"Wow. That thing is exactly as ugly as I expected it to be." Wrex said as the bomb was moved into position.

"Commander, there are still a few last adjustments I need to make before we can set the drive to detonate. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes." Kaiden said, tapping away on his omnitool."

"Alright, in that case Joker, head over to the rendezvous point and pick up the surviving salarians." Jane said.

"On it." Came his reply. The marines piled back into the hold before the door closed and the Normandy rose up, flying off in the direction of the STG survivors.

"Shepard come in."

Ashley's voice came up again on the radio, this time sounding somewhat panicked and with gunfire in the background.

"Ashley? What's wrong? Why am I hearing gunfire?" Jane said, concerned.

"A few squads of geth have moved in on my position. They have me pinned down in the tower. I need assistance before I'm overrun."

"Shit. Hold on, we're on our way!" Jane cried. She looked back to Kaiden, who was now tapping furiously on his omnitool.

"Go! I've got this, help her!" He said.

Jane nodded, already heading towards the exit. "Tali, come on!" The quarian drew her shotgun and moved into step with the rest of the squad, as they pelted through the halls of the Virmire facility, heading towards Ashley, and a choice.

…

 _Somewhere in the terminus systems..._

"Inquisitor, the engine room is secure."

"Excellent. Hold your position for the time being, Apothecary. We should have the bridge secured shortly."

Marthas lowered his hand from the vox-bead and re-focused all his attention on the telekinetic barrier he was maintaining, his eyes flaring with power as he strengthened the barrier against the veritable tidal wave of fire being poured at him by the line of xenos who stood guard at the door to the bridge.

There had been ten of them, six four eyes in light armor armed with automatic rifles, two avian 'sergeants' with shotguns and holo-armor, a third avian who wielded a long-barrelled sniper weapon, and a new species, a large humpbacked reptilian who was hosting the hallway down with fire from a heavy machinegun it wielded like a rifle.

Still, even against the mass of rounds directed at him and the marines, Marthas' barrier held strong; only a single bead of sweat on his brow showed any strain he was experiencing to stop the thousands of hyper-accelerated rounds in their tracks.

And with each moment, the fire directed at them was becoming less.

Sergeant Osiris was marching steadily at his right, bolter barking explosive death to the xenos manning the barricade. To his left was brother Sartak Husun of the White Scars. The squad CQC expert was lending his own fire from his plasma pistol to the barrage, bolts of superheated matter slicing through the xenos' pathetic shields like they were paper.

By the time the three had moved halfway down the hall, an action which took five seconds to perform, only the hunchback, one avian sergeant and the avian sniper were left standing. The butchery of his comrades must have overwhelmed the reptilian then, for it let out a bellowing roar and tossed away it's weapon, vaulting the barricade and charging the three Imperials. The sergeant called after it in what seemed to be anger before the two survivors opened fire to try and give their fellow support.

Marthas regarded the alien's haphazard charge with contempt before glancing at the swordsman at his side. "Brother Husun, if you would?"

The marine nodded silently, then burst into motion, charging past the barrier with inhuman speed. The charging alien seemed surprised that his foe was coming to meet him and faltered slightly.

Husun didn't even slow down, smashing shoulder first into the stunned alien and throwing him to the floor, finishing it with a point-blank plasma bolt to the face. A sniper round impacted his chest plate with a loud bang, and then the Scar was back in motion, blocking a panicked shotgun blast with his combat shield as he leapt the barrier, his power sword sweeping in a wide arc to slice through the shotgunner's torso, cleaving him in two. The sniper backpedaled, crying out in panic and trying in vain to escape before a clean stab from Husun ran him through and he fell to the ground, drowning in his own blood.

The marine flicked the blood off his sword as the other two imperials joined him before the door. He looked down at the fallen aliens and grunted. "These aliens offer no challenge. They are little better than pests for all the danger they pose." He turned back to the inquisitor, "When we reconnect with the imperium, mankind shall sweep these pathetic species aside like leaves before a tempest."

"Without a doubt, Sartak. However, we must find out where we are first if we are to have any hope returning to the imperium. Now hold a moment." Marthas closed his eyes and extended his mind, slowly and cautiously, into the bridge of the ship. He detected five panicked, terrified alien minds and smiled sadistically to himself.

 _Time for a bit of shock and awe._ He thought, drawing his blade and gesturing for the marines to stand away from the door. When the way was clear, he ignited _Brightest Day_ and opened the door.

…

The day had started well enough for Captain Bekis.

And now it looked like he was going to die.

The batarian was crouched behind one of the bridge control consoles, carnifex heavy pistol clenched in shaking hands, aiming at the door to the bridge and waiting with the rest of his bridge crew for the monsters that had slaughtered his men with brutal efficiency to knock down the door to the bridge and do the same to them.

The other members of his bridge crew, two batarians and a turian, were only armed with pistols, while his turian bodyguard had an assault rifle, as well as tech armor like himself.

The men waited, heard the sounds of gunfire and screams die away, and were left in tense silence. They stewed in their terror, left alone in their minds as none of the mercenaries dared to speak.

The, with a chime, the door to the bridge slid open, and they beheld the face of their destroyer.

And it was...and old man?

The human looked to be in his late sixties, with pale, wrinkled skin on his face and a large scar that ran across his right eye. However, his eyes were not normal. They glowed with the same indigo fire that sheathed the ornate sword he clenched in his left fist. He was garbed in armor and cloth of black and gold, and appeared to the more spiritual men as a Grim Reaper, an agent of Death come to claim their souls for the sins they had committed over their lives.

Bekis was not one of these men.

"Kill the bastard!" He screamed with false bravery, and unloaded his pistol into the human.

However, the alien seemed to guess what would happen for his eyes flashed brighter as he whipped up his arm, palm out, to face the onslaught of mass accelerated rounds.

And the bullets stopped in mid air, held in place by an invisible barrier as the blue suns continued to pour fire into the man who was their death.

Bekis realized he was pulling the trigger on an overheated gun ten seconds after the warning chime sounded. He focused again on the man in black and saw that he was surrounded by several clusters of silvery specks which hung in the air around him.

Then he realized that those specks were their bullets.

The human smirked evilly then, and with a flick of his wrist, sent the rounds back to them.

"Shit!" Bekis cried as he dove from the path of a dozen rounds that attempted to return themselves to him. He heard two other cries as members of his crew failed to avoid the return volley.

"Die you Fucker!" Cried Bekis' bodyguard, who drew his pistol to fire on the man, having tanked the rounds on his very durable barriers.

In response, the man in black whipped out a bulky, narrow-barreled pistol with a strange glowing strip on the top and fired at the bodyguard, a beam of ruby energy spearing from the barrel of the weapon and bypassed the turian's shields entirely, slicing through his armor with ease and piercing his side.

Then the wound began to smoke, and the turian let out a scream of agony as a blast of emerald flame burst from the rent of his armor and his skin began to glow as a hellish fire devoured him from the inside out, in moments reducing the veteran to little more than fine grey ash.

The man laughed then, and twirled his sword as he surveyed the two survivors, whose eight eyes were filled with fear. " _Sed hoc est iucundum! Huius aetatis non sensit!"_ He said as he strode further into the bridge. He looked at the last officer, and spoke again. _"Nunc autem, cum mihi buisness princeps vester."_

And with that he shot the other batarian in the face, leaving him to scream and burn as he strode up to Bekis, his black giants finally following him into the room.

Captain Bekis scrambled away from this monster, this avatar of death until his back was against the front view screen of the bridge. The human followed and carefully, almost gently, placed the tip of his blade against the batarian's throat.

Bekis then began to blubber with fear, begging for his life like a mud-caste slave as the human casually removed the glove from his right hand and placed it against the Captain's forehead.

" _Collige te, xenos."_ He said with a stern tone. _"Hoc modo ineffabili dolor parumper faciat."_

And then a spear of pure agony impaled his mind, and Bekis screamed.

He fell it as the human began to dig through his memorise, excluding a faint sense of disgust the entire time, plucking through the batarian's knowledge of history, star maps, galactic politics, everything. The mercenary felt him pick and choose the important from the menial among his memories and knowledge, tossing aside the unneeded chunks of information.

It only lasted a few moments, but those moments of pure agony, of violation, were enough to push the unprepared alien to the brink of madness.

At long last, after an eternity of pain, the touch of the man's mind withdrew. Bekis opened his eyes and saw a look of confusion and uncertainty flicker across the human's face for a few moments before being overtaken by a look of cold contempt.

"What…are you…?" Bekis stammered as the man rose back to his feet.

The human chuckled darkly, then said in flawless batarian, "Something new."

And then, with a flash of silver, Bekis new no more.

...

Marthas flicked the batarian's wretched, too-human-looking blood off his sword as he turned from the headless corpse on the ground, his mind still spinning from the revelations his dive into the criminal's mind had unveiled.

 _This...this cannot be possibly be true. The year, merely 2183? And a council of races? Humanity, not superior, but_ equal _in power and size to the xenos of this galaxy?_

But Marthas knew what he had seen, wrenched from the alien's mind and stored in the databanks implanted in his skull, to be what that alien had known. And that meant...well, he was not yet sure.

This was, after all, a lot to process.

"Inquisitor, what did the alien's mind reveal?" Questioned Sergeant Osiris, his no-nonsense voice breaking Marthas from his thoughts.

But before he could even try to respond, a voice over the vox interrupted him.

"Inquisitor, we have eliminated a group of the blue-armored xenos and taken control of a group of prisoners they had, including one human." Varsius said. "What are your orders?"

Marthas snapped back into commander mode. "Hold them there. I shall come to you and conduct some...questioning."

"Understood. We shall await your arrival." He said, and the vox went silent again.

Marthas walked to the exit of the bridge, the marines silently falling into step behind him.

He had questions that needed answering. And they would be: one way, or another.

…

 _Virmire, Cloning Facility._

"You are a traitor to all of Krogankind, Urdnot Wrex! When the last of our people pass into death, it will be your name that they curse as the destroyer of the children of Tuchanka!" The bleeding, dying battlemaster proclaimed as Wrex stood over his broken form, the last of the geth he had lead destroyed by the rest of the squad.

Wrex wracked the slide of his claymore and expelled the built up heat from the massive weapon, leveling the shotgun at his foe's face.

"No." Wrex rumbled. "I'm saving us from a life and death as slaves, as destroyers. If the krogan are to die, we'll die spitting in the galaxy's face, not chained to the feet of those mechanical squids." And he punctuated his statement with a blast of his weapon, pulping the battlemaster's head and ending the discussion.

"Remind me never to get into a debate with a krogan. They have rather, ah, _final_ closing statements." Liara whispered to Jane as Wrerx walked away from his slain opponent, eliciting a snort of amusement from Jane before she waved for the squad to advance.

They moved from the courtyard where they had encountered the battlemaster and his geth and came upon a walkway that surrounded a retaining pool of coolant.

 _We're close._ Jane thought. _Just hold on a bit longer, Ash. We're almost…_

Her thoughts were interrupted as Kaiden's voice came over the coms.

"Commander! A geth dropship just flew over and dropped off three squads of geth, and they're trying to get to the bomb. They know what we're trying to do!" A pause, and Shepard opened her voice to respond before he continued. "I'm setting the bomb. Go get Ashley and get the hell out of here. I'll hold them off."

Shepard's heart dropped. Then Ashely broke in.

"No commander! Go back and secure the bomb and Kaiden; I've taken a few hits already, and we need to make sure this place is destroyed."

"No, commander, go get Ashley!"

Shepard's mind was going at a million miles a second, trying to find a way out of this impossible situation. But no matter how she twisted and turned the variables, she realized that there was no way she could save both of her teammates. She would have to…

 _Choose._ The voices whispered in her head. _The Soldier and the Sentinel?_

And that was when, in order to cope with the horrible reality she was living, she latched on to the words in her head and made her decision purely based on logic.

Of the two, Kaiden was the more tactically flexible. Ashley, despite being extremely skilled with all manners of weapons, was 'just' a soldier. Shepard knew a dozen N7's who could match her skill-wise, but Sentinels of Kaiden's skill were exceptionally rare in the alliance military.

And so she chose.

Jane made an about face and began to jog back the way they came, activating her com as she did. "Kaiden, hold on, we're coming back for you. Radio Joker to bring the Normandy in to pick us up at the bomb site"

"Commander, I…" he began to protest, but Shepard interrupted him. "That is a _direct order,_ LC. We are coming back to secure the bomb and evacuate. _Is that understood?_ "

"...yes, commander." Came the begrudging reply, and the line went dead.

"Thank you, commander." Ashley said over a private line, her voice cracking slightly. "Please, take care of him. And make sure my family knows what happened."

Shepard choked back tears as she responded. "Ashley, I'm sorry…" She began.

"It's alright, commander. I knew the risks when I signed up. Just make sure to put a bullet into Saren's brain for me." And the line went silent.

"Will do, Ash." Jane whispered. "Will do."

…

The squad encountered a few geth on the way back to the courtyard, but the machines were absolutely obliterated by the controlled rage that coursed through Shepard and her squad. When they reached the bomb site Kaiden was pinned down behind the bomb itself, and the squad silently eliminated the remaining geth just as the Normandy flew up, hangar door open.

They ran inside, knowing time was not on their side, and the frigate blasted away from the base as fast as possible.

Moments later, a massive _**boom**_ rocked the ship, and they knew the mission was a success.

But at what cost.

Kaiden's body flared blue with biotic energy as he screamed in loss, punching the wall of the hangar with all his strength, denting the thick metal with his enhanced strength, before sliding to the ground, tears running from his closed eyes, as the rest of the team silently mourned the loss of a friend.

…

 _Terminus Systems, Onboard the_ Will of Kaine.

"Farseer, we have gathered, as you requested. What do you need?" Said Elsen, the leader of Reyalla's seer council.

They were within a specifically designed chamber in the depths of the _Will of Kaine_ , a large, circular room with various runes of protection sung into the wraithbone walls. It was meant for use in large psychic rituals, like the one that the Farseer meant to conduct now.

Besides Reyalla and Elsen, the other four members of the Council were also here, allowing the senior eldar to discuss their purpose with the farseer. There were also the two dire avengers who had been guarding Reyalla's room, and Striking Scorpions Exarch Lorad Deathshadow, who the farseer had come across and enlisted en-wrought to the ritual room.

The Solitaire had also slipped in at some point, this time with mask in place. As of yet, no-one had bothered, or been brave enough, to question his presence.

"I have managed to reconnect with the strings, and found that there is something that needs to be addressed immediately if we are to avoid great future loss. I need you to help me open a long-distance eternity gate; I will provide the location focus, you just need to keep the portal open while I and the aspect warriors go through." A quiet cough came from the direction of the room's lone harlequin. "...and the Solitaire, of course."

Elsen bowed. "Of course, Farseer. It is our honor to serve."

The seers moved to their points around the room necessary for the desired spell. When they were in place, Reyalla focused on the place she had seen in her vision, gathered her power, then released it.

A bright disk of white light burst into existence three feet off the ground. It shimmered for a moment and threatened to collapse, but the other seers quickly began to pour their own power into the gate, stabilizing and widening it until an eldar could comfortably walk through it.

"It is ready, Farseer." Elsen said, eyes glowing white as he poured energy into the portal.

Reyalla nodded, her grip tightening on her singing spear and sparks of warp-lightning crackling around her fingers. "Keep the portal open. We should not be long." She said, stepping through with the warriors and the dancer close behind.

…

 _Virmire, AA Tower #16_

"It's alright, commander. I knew the risks when I signed up. Just make sure to put a bullet into Saren's brain for me."

Ashley cut the comlink and ducked behind a pillar as a volley of mass accelerator fire flew through the space she had just vacated. She popped out the other side and put a round from her sniper rifle through the visual lens of the geth trooper who had fire the shot, then two more int a rocket trooper on a raised walkway behind her first target, dropping the synthetic.

The rifle blared as it overheated, and Ash tossed it away, drawing her assault rifle as she slid back into cover.

 _Alright Williams, the crew is escaping. Now you just need to do dad proud and take down as many of these bastards as possible before that bomb goes off._

She took a deep breath and shot out from behind the pillar, firing at the advancing geth and downing one before she dove behind a waist-high wall as their return fire pinged off her shields. She rolled into a crouch and popped up again, firing two-second bursts into various platforms, and downing another two troopers before her rifle overheated.

"Shit." She muttered as she drew her pistol one-handed and continued to fire, downing another geth before the rifle cooled down. She burst from cover again, duel-wielding rifle and pistol as she fell back before the relentless mechanical onslaught, destroying more platforms before she ducked back into cover as her shields fell.

"Damn, that was careless Williams, are you trying to get yourself killed?" She muttered, before realizing her situation again and chuckling darkly.

Then a geth hunter decloaked in front of her, it's shotgun leveled at her chest.

Ashley's eyes widened and she lashed out with her right hand, trying to knock the gun off target.

She was only partially successful; the blast of metal missed her torso, but ripped through her left arm just above the elbow with such power that the whole limb was sheared off.

Ashley screamed in pain as her arm was severed, kicking the geth away as he collapsed to her knees. She still had enough control left to unload her pistol into the hunter, wrecking it, and overheating her pistol in the process.

The woman slid her back against the pillar behind her, dropping her pistol as she frantically applied medigel to her gushing stump. She bit her lip as tears of pain ran down her face.

A geth trooper then came into view, and she panicked threw herself to the side as it fired.

Ashley was not fast enough, and a bullet pierced her eye at an angle, thankfully missing her brain, but destroying the ocular organ and blasting a crevasse in the side of her head.

As the soldier lied on the ground in incredible pain, the geth correcting its aim to finish her off, Ashley's thoughts flew to her love ones.

 _I'm sorry everyone. I wasn't good enough. Mom, Abby, Lyne, Sarah, I'm so sorry I won't be coming home. And Kaiden...Kaiden, I'm so sorry to leave you alone to finish this. But you can do it. I love you…_

Ashley Williams closed her remaining eye and accepted death as the geth troopers finger tightened on the trigger.

In another time, another place, this would be where her story ended. Lost in nuclear fire, simply the latest casualty in a long list of fallen that would be claimed by the inevitable march of the Reapers.

But this time, fate had other plans for Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams.

A metallic screeching noise caused Ashley to open her eye, and saw to her shock that the geth about to execute her now had a large spear pinning it to a wall.

The weapon suddenly wrenched itself from the machine and flew through the air; Ash followed its path, and her eye widened in uncomprehending shock at what she saw.

Five beings stepped from a large white disk that had appeared in the middle of the room. At their head was a tall, obviously female being in black and purple armor who absolutely radiated power. As Ash watched, she thrust her empty hand forwards and a blast of lightning speared an approaching geth.

At her side were two soldiers in matching blue armor, who wielded strange riffles that whirred as they fired at the encroaching geth. Another warrior wore heavier green and black armor, and wielded a massive two-handed chainsaw sword. In a blink he darted forwards, bisecting three troopers with one swing.

Lastly and most strangely, was the man in the demonic mask, who flashed like a shadow between the synthetic enemies. He seemed to blur as he darted from foe to foe, leaving little more than piles of scrap in his wake.

As Ashley began to slip into darkness, she heard a musical voice shout something, and suddenly she was being lifted, carried, and as the black finally claimed her, she glimpsed a large room, the walls covered in runes, and the face of the Masked Man gazing down at her.

…

 _Onboard Volus Freighter_ Delightful Deal.

"What do you think they want?" Oceno asked quietly, her four eyes darting between their two captors.

"Maybe the same as the Suns: to sell us to slavery." Nikolas said darkly, glaring daggers at the pair.

"Unlikely. If they intended to sell us, they would have moved us onto their ship already. This is something else. I think they are waiting for somebody." Verris chimed in.

Priora wasn't really listening to the conversation her friends were having: she was still trying to come up with a plan to get the jump on the two...whatevers that were still holding the four of them at gunpoint.

Unfortunately, all her plans were rather outlandish, and she kept getting distracted every time she looked at the face of their male captor. His thin face, with those exotic cheekbones, and his piercing eyes…

 _Damn it, I'm doing it again! He's holding you at gunpoint Priora, stop being attracted to him!_

But the asari's inner maiden couldn't help but be fascinated by the man, so similar to a human, but just different enough to make him seem exotic.

She wondered if he was as muscular as his fighting style suggested…

A series of loud booms, growing steadily louder, pulled Priora from her thoughts. The other three fell silent as the source of these booms rounded the corner, and the eyes of the four mercenaries bugged out as the eight-foot-tall humanoids in the heaviest armor they had ever seen came into view.

So captivated were the mercs by the giants, the man in the long coat went almost unnoticed. Priora's eyes, however, were drawn to him as he approached their captors and spoke quietly to them. He then turned and locked eyes with the asari, and Priora felt the same chill go down her spine that she got whenever she spoke with a matriarch.

His eyes were just so...old, and if they were anything to go by, this human had seen some shit over the course of his life.

The man approached the mercs, who were seated with their backs against the wall of the corridor, and crouched before Priora, his gaze never leaving hers. Then he reached out with his right hand and grasped her head firmly, but not painfully. He teammates moved to do something, but a growl from one of the giants stopped them.

" _Videamus quid nosti..._ " The man said softly. Then his eyes flashed indigo, and somehow this _human_ initiated a meld.

At least, that was how the asari interpreted the invasion of her mind. But this was so much different from what she had experienced when she melded before; this was a one-way street, not a meeting of minds and souls, but an incursion by one into another. She felt the human feeling through her memories, looking at everything from her early life to her knowledge of the galactic underworld.

It is worth noting that Marthas was not being intentionally careless with his intrusion into Priora's mind, like he was with Bekis. However, neither was he overly gentle, and she still winced from time to time as his intrusion caused bursts of pain to lance into her head.

After a few moments it was over, and Priora's sight returned as the otherworldly light faded from his eyes. He stood, and the asari regarded the man with confusion and no small amount of fear.

The human chuckled, then spoke to his companions. " _Inferimus eum ad navem."_

" _Tu certe sapiens Inquisitor?"_ Questioned one of the giants in a booming voice.

He looked back at the mercenaries, and his gaze gave all of them chills as he said, in asari, "Yes, I think I shall have much to learn from these four."

 **A/N**

 _And that more-or-less concludes what I consider to be the introduction/opeing act for Necessary Monsters. I enjoyed writing this chapter a lot, and I'm glad to be able to get it to you so soon after the last one (though in all honesty I intended to write them as one chapter, so...) I likely won't be getting the next chapter out as fast as this one, as I wrote the bulk of the chapter this week while I was off school for 'student success week', or as I call it, Recover From Midterm Stress Week. So consider this a treat for being such great people._

 _In any case, thanks again to everyone who follows and faves, and reviews; Especially those who review on the regular. I really appreciate the support, and it warms my reptilian heart whenever I see an alert email about reviews on one of my stories._

 _That about wraps it up, so Follow, Fave, Review, and until next time:_

Imperator senatus et populi Romani Dinosaurs!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

" _A whole new galaxy; with 'friendly' aliens, a minuscule humanity, laughably primitive technology and commonplace powers different from anything we've ever seen before?_

 _By the Trickster, this is going to be fun."_

 _-From the journal of Asurranel Wilsa, Harlequin Player._

" _I'll bet you fifty yeis that Irlisae winds up in bed with an alien within twelve hours of us reaching a populated world."_

" _Do I look like an idiot to you? We both know that's a losing bet."_

 _-Illas and Lenris Trition, Eldar Rangers._

 _Terminus Systems, Onboard the_ Will of Khaine.

"Close the Portal!" Reyalla cried as Exarch Lorad tumbled through the white disk, primitive weapon fire chasing him. Instantly, the Seers of her council ceased feeding the gate, and it snapped out of existence milliseconds before the nuclear blast went off.

Reyalla sighed quietly in relief. _That was_ very _close,_ she thought as she approached the Solitaire, who was still carrying the now-unconscious human woman. The dire avengers followed close behind her, cautious even of this crippled, seemingly helpless woman.

The Solitaire adjusted his grip on the human both to cradle her easier and grant the Farseer access to her head. Reyalla winced at the sight of the woman's ruined eye, but nevertheless placed her hand upon her temple and, using the woman as a focal point, reached out to the strings of fate.

 _Let us see why you are so important…_

The world flashed white, and then she saw somewhere else.

At first it was darkness, and then a beam of light illuminated her surroundings shining on a human woman.

 _Williams…_ a voice whispered.

Yes, this was the woman they had rescued, but she looked quite different here, her face crisscrossed with scars and her expression hardened. She wore a suit of black and green combat armor, and her ruined eye ruined eye was covered by a patch of fabric.

The light grew, and Reyalla saw that the woman, Williams, was flanked by nine other beings. Some were human, more were aliens, and all were indistinct in their features but obviously holding themselves as soldiers. Each one held a weapon in their hands, two were wreathed in a strange blue aura, and another glowing with the familiar power of a psyker.

This group stood before a rising, colossal form with two glowing red eyes. In the distance screams and howls could be heard, and Reyalla saw indistinct, bulbous forms loping and running towards the group, a wave of glowing blue eyes and red muzzle flashes.

Williams let out wordless shout and the group began to advance towards the horde, weapons barking death and psychic fires mixing with the strange blue powers to obliterate the swarm of dark creatures.

And then, behind the small group that was carving through the swarm, another large form rose up to contest the red eyed monster, this time a distinctly human shape with glowing green eyes and a shining gold Aquila behind him.

Reyalla severed her link and opened her eyes, the images seared in her mind. This vision was not nearly as clear as the ones shown to her by Isha, but she had an idea as to what it meant her to do.

"My lady, this is what you needed us for? To rescue some mon-keigh?!"

Reyalla turned her head slowly to see an incredulous look on the face of Seer Triella, the newest member of her council, and skewered the woman with her coldest glare. The seer froze, realizing how drastically she had overstepped her bounds.

Reryalla ignored the mortified eldar and focused back on the human woman, who was still bleeding heavily from her ruined eye socket and slightly from her severed arm. She reached into her pouch and pulled out a rune. She grasped the bone in her hand and channeled her power, letting the energy be filtered through the rune of healing to emit a restorative aura, enough to staunch the bleeding, but no more.

"Solitaire, would you be please take the human to the hangar and have a shuttle prepared? I have a meeting I need to arrange."

The Harlequin nodded affirmative, then turned and swiftly made his way from the room.

Reyalla turned her gaze back to Seer Triella, who was still frozen in place by the shock at her outburst.

"Triella, in the future, it would be wise to think before blatantly and _rudely_ questioning the judgment of your superiors. I trust it will not happen again?" Reyalla said, her voice cold.

"Yes, my lady, of course." She bowed her head, and Reyalla sniffed, placated for now. She nodded farewell to Elsen, which he returned, before turning on her heel and striding from the room, waving for the aspect warriors to follow her.

Quickly the group reached one of the ship's central lifts, getting aboard and heading down towards the hangar bay. Leaning against the back wall of the lift, she closed her eyes and launched into the warp, searching for the annoyingly familiar signature of the Inquisitor who had been drawn here with her.

…

"Sire, what do you expect to learn from these xenos and the heretic? They are petty sellswords, I doubt they have any real intelligence to provide." Apothecary Theoverus contemptuously said as the two men escorted their prisoners back to the thunderhawk.

Marthas glanced at the marine with annoyance, once again lamenting the loss of Brother Ulysses, the squad's original Apothecary, and lightly cursing the Watchmaster who had recommended Theoverus as his replacement. "It is not wise to underestimate any unknown, Operative. Far to many of my colleagues have died from that mistake: I do not plan to join their number." He said, his tone even.

Whatever Theo said in response was lost on him as Marthas felt a prodding at his mental defenses. He stopped, focusing his attention on the first real evidence of a presence within this calm warp. However, as he examined the prods, he noticed that there was something of a pattern to them, and as well the signature was strangely familiar.

Marthas, for the second time today, lowered his defenses enough to make contact with the prodding entity, and to his surprise found the (relatively) familiar thoughts of Farseer Reyalla. Before he could question why the eldar was contacting him in such a way, she thought/spoke, saying, _Inquisitor, we need to meet in person. There are events that have transpired which involve you and your people, and Isha willing we shall not be here for much longer. I am bringing a ship to your...prize. Meet me at the other airlock._ A pause. _And bring a healer, if you have one_.

Before he could respond, she broke contact and retreated. Marthas, mildly confused, returned to focus on the real world to see everyone, including the mercenaries, staring at him. He shook his head to clear the residual effects of the sudden touching of minds before he began barking orders.

"Sergeant, take the rest of the squad and bring the prisoners back to the ship. Apothecary, Tellara, Varsius, you come with me. The Farseer wishes to have a 'discussion', and so we will be meeting her at the other airlock." And with that he turned and began walking away, not giving anyone time to do anything but comply, as he heard one pair of heavy footsteps and two near silent pairs begin to follow him while the rest of the group continued on towards the gunship.

…

They reached the airlock on the other side of the Blue Suns ship with ample time to spare, and were waiting for a good ten minutes before they heard the telltale _clunk_ of a ship attaching itself.

The door slid open and Marthas heard a slight groan of protest from the metal of Theo's boltgun as the marine reflexively tightened his grip on the weapon at the sight of one of the Imperium's oldest foes.

The Farseer was still garbed for war in her rune armor and carried her singing spear like a staff as she led the small procession onto the ship. Alongside her were two dire avengers and trailing was a striking scorpion, likely an exarch based on the two-handed biting blade he carried at rest on his shoulder.

Marthas could feel the curiosity of the Keletii siblings at seeing members of the other half of their species up close without having to fight for their lives. Reyalla ran her eyes over the group, then focused back on the Inquisitor.

"So, these are the half-breeds that you picked up. I must say, Inquisitor, I'm rather surprised they survived this long. I figured one of your colleagues would have tried to execute them for being 'impure', and then you for harboring them."

 _Well, that's certainly a very_ _ **eldar**_ _way to start a conversation, but alright._ Marthas thought as the twins flinched slightly at the words of the psyker.

"A few tried. Then the rest learned better. However, I doubt you came here to discuss my recruiting decisions; so, what do you want, Eldar?" Mathas said, his expression neutral.

The corner of Reyalla's mouth twitched ever so minutely, then she spoke again. "My purpose here is twofold. Firstly, I've come to inform you of a...situation that has been made aware to me." She paused, took a breath, and said; "We are no longer in the Imperium, the forty-first millennium, or even our own galaxy. The warp rift transported us all to another reality."

"Treacherous xenos filth! You speak nothing but lies!" Theo snarled his bolter raising ever so slightly, an action mirrored by the dire avengers. "Inquisitor, let me slay this filth so we may be free from her manipulations!"

However, Marthas (to the surprise the Imperials), smirked at the Farseer's words, and chuckled at their surprise to his reaction. "Thank you for confirming my suspicions, Farseer. That shaved off roughly a half hour of mind reading from my schedule and probably saved a xeno from losing their mind."

Reyalla's face showed surprise for a moment, before it settled again. "You already knew?" It was not a question.

"I strongly suspected, between the state of the warp, the lack of the Astronomican and the memories I took from two xenos on these ships, I had a very good idea that we were at the least transported back in time. You just confirmed it."

The farseer nodded. "And you know about this reality's humanity?" She asked.

"We have one in our possession already."  
"Well, now you have two. Solitaire!" Reyalla called back towards her ship, and the unmistakable form of a Harlequin walked out, carrying an unconscious human female. She wore white armor with pink accents, which Marthas could see was covered in dried blood from a head wound and a severed arm.

"Theo." Marthas said, and the Apothecary moved quickly, mag-locking his bolter to his back and taking the woman from the Harlequin. He laid her quite gently on the floor of the corridor and scanned her with a wrist-mounted auspex for a few moments before speaking.

"Inquisitor, she is severely injured and has lost roughly 28% of her blood. We need to get her back to the _Blade_ immediately if she is to be saved."

Marthas nodded back the way they came. "Go then. I'll be along shortly. Varsius, Tellara, you go as well." He saw them hesitate, both unwilling to leave him alone with potential foes and also brimming with questions both for him and for the Eldar. "I will explain latter. Go!" The twins shared a glance, then moved to follow Theoverus, who was already stomping back down the hallway with the woman in his arms.

Marthas stood alone before the eldar group, and his hand unconsciously slipped to the pommel of his sword.

However, the Farseer seemed to understand his desires, and with a quick command in Eldarin the rest of her companions retreated to the ship, though the dire avengers went grudgingly.

The two leaders of their respective peoples stood alone then. Marthas was the first to speak.

"Do you plan to tell me why you had that woman?"

Reyalla shifted slightly, the eldar equivalent of a shrug, and said "She is important to future events, and was connected to you. I took the necessary steps."

Marthas nodded. "And I assume that, with Slaanesh's non-existence in this reality, you plan to take your people and vanish into unknown space to rebuild? Increase population and the size of your fleet before revealing yourself to this 'Citadel Council' that apparently runs the galaxy?" His voice was laced with contempt for this naive organisation.

This invoked an eyebrow rise from Reyalla. "An accurate guess. And you reached that conclusion...how?"

Marthas shrugged. "It is what I would have done."

"And so, you know my plan, Inquisitor. But what is yours? What will you do, in a place with no Imperium, with a humanity that is at peace with its alien neighbours? How will the warriors of the Mankind survive without a conflict?"

Marthas thought for a moment, then simply replied "I do not know, to be honest. But, as we are both aware, Farseer, peace is very fleeting, and the only true constant in the universe is War. I'm sure I'll find us something to do." She cocked her head, regarding him. Then she nodded slightly, satisfied with his answer, then turned to go.

He had to ask.

"What happened to Dan-Varr?"

Reyalla stopped, then spoke without turning. " _Illmureead_ " She said. He knew that word.

 _Tyranids. Damn._

"For what it is worth...I'm sorry." He said haltingly, the words feeling both wrong and right to speak aloud.

The eldar chuckled. "Coming from any human but you, Inquisitor, I would have taken that as a grave insult and slew you where you stood." She glanced over her shoulder. "But...thank you. Good luck, Marthas Devinir."  
"Good luck, Farseer Reyalla." He said in return, as the door slid shut.

Marthas took a deep breath, then slowly let it out.

 _So, a whole new reality. With new rules, new aliens, new threats...and me, the old man without a plan._

The Inquisitor sighed, feeling every one of his two and a half centuries as he began to walk back to the thunderhawk.

 _Damn, I need a drink._

…

 _SSV_ Normandy _, on-route to the Citadel._

"Shepard, excellent job on Virmire. Had you not destroyed that compound, we could have had another Krogan Rebellion on our hands." Councillor Sparatus said, slightly begrudgingly.

"Yes, and the Union would like to thank you for getting the STG team out more or less intact." Said Councillor Valern, nodding to the human spectre.

Jane's expression was flat and emotionless as she stood before the holographic representation of the ⅔'s of the council. She nodded in response to their thanks. "I was just doing my job, councillors. I just wish I could have gotten everyone out."

"Ah, yes, your report said that Chief...Williams was left behind?" Valern said, glancing at something off screen. "We will ensure her sacrifice is honored once we finish the issue with Saren; you have my word commander." the salarian said, though Sparatus shot him an annoyed glance before speaking again.

"Commander, come back to the citadel immediately. We will be wanting to hear your account of the events on the planet personally, and I am sure Tevos will appreciate a debriefing, considering she missed your report."

Shepard's interest was piqued at the mention of the elephant in the room: that being the fact that the asari councillor was not present for this report. "Why is Councillor Tevos not here?"

The two exchanged a look before Valern spoke. "Councillor Tevos had an...episode earlier today. She was passing in and out of consciousness and crying out about voices in her head and a scream. Obviously, it would not do to have the people see her in such a state, so she is currently resting in a private room at Huerta Memorial Hospital."

Jane's eyes widened. _Voices and screams…_ she thought, remembering her random faint earlier, and the scream that had preceded it. _A coincidence, or…_

"In any case Commander, we have business to attend to. We shall see you soon for a full debrief." Sparatus said abruptly, and his hologram cut off. Valern, however, remained connected, and Jane looked at him curiously. "Is there something else, councillor?"

"Yes, commander. I just wanted to thank you privately for getting commander Kirrahe out safely; his death would have been a great loss both to the STG and the salarian people." The salarian said.

"I was not aware you knew Kirrahe, Councillor."

Valern smiled slightly. "I should; he is by brother after all. So again, thank you for keeping him alive. The galaxy would be a lesser place without him. Goodbye, Commander." And with that, Valern severed the connection.

Shepard stood in that spot for a moment, considering the information she had just been given, and trying to find some behavior or trait that seemed similar between the two aliens. Eventually she gave up and walked from the meeting room and into the CIC.

The command center of the Normandy looked unchanged from when she had left a few hours ago, but it felt like something had shifted among the crew as they moved at their stations and discussed quietly.

The difference, of course, being that they had suffered their first loss since Jenkins back at Eden Prime; and what's more, the loss had been from the Ground Team, who had waded through several hellscapes worth of missions with little more than a few scrapes and gunshot wounds. There had been an illusion of invulnerability surrounding Shepard and those who fought with her.

An illusion which had recently been shattered by nuclear fire.

Shepard sighed and leaned against the wall beside the door she had just exited, letting her eyes close for a moment as her thoughts wandered. She emerged from her musings as she heard footsteps approaching, and turned her head as Liara walked out the doors from the ramp to deck 2. They both smiled slightly at the sight of the other, but it was still tinged with sadness of recent events.

"So, how was the council today?" Liara asked, stopping to lean on the wall beside Jane.

"Better than usual, but down one asari." She said. Liara gave her a curious look, and Jane elaborated. "Apparently, Tevos had an 'episode' and was passing in and out of consciousness, shouting about voices in her head and a scream. So, they sent her to the hospital." Jane paused as a suspicion clicked into place, like pieces of a puzzle.

"Liara, you never said, did I say anything after I passed out before we started the attack on the facility?"

Liara's eyebrows-well, where eyebrows would be on a human-scrunched up as she thought on the question, shaking her head slightly as she replied, "I don't think so Jane. Why?"

"Because, well…" Shepard faltered for a moment, the thought of lying flickering across her mind for fear of sounding crazy, but if this was more than just a strange coincidence than she wanted to figure it out. "Before I passed out, after I saw that vision, I heard a scream; It was...just an noise of rage. Rage and loss. And it wasn't like the ones in the Prothean visions; it didn't seem to be connected to the image I saw. I don't know, I just thought…" Shepard trailed off, not sure where she was going with her train of thought.

Liara wasn't phased by her rambling though, and smiled gently before taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. "Jane, it's alright. Whatever happened, we can figure it out. But it has been a long day, and I think we could all use a rest before we get back to the citadel. We'll come back to this after we've both had a chance to gather our thoughts."

Shepard nodded. Then pushed herself off the wall. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea Liara. I think I'll do that; but first I should probably check on Kaiden, do you know where he is?"  
"Yes, I think he's down by the sleeper pods." Liara said as she watched the human go, staying in her position on the wall.

"Alright, I'll see you latter Liara." Jane said, turning to go.

Liara nodded and smiled, and then the door slid shut behind her Shepard and she walked down the stairs to the lower deck.

Jane walked through the door at the bottom of the stairs and past the lift into the mess area. Garrus and Tali were sitting beside each other at the table, her hand in his claw, talking quietly as Jane walked by. They looked over as she passed, Garrus nodding and Tali giving a small wave. She smiled back but did not stop, and the two went back to their discussion.

Jane walked into the corridor lined with the sleeping pods shared by most members of the crew. Kaiden was sitting at the end, between the last pod on the left and the end of the hall, with his back against the wall and his cheeks still damp from tears. His eyes were closed, his head resting on the wall, and he didn't react to her approach; so Jane sat down on the other side of the hall, content to let him speak in his own time.

They sat like that for a few minutes, the silence drawing on, until eventually Kaiden opened his eyes and looked at Jane. He let out a shaking breath, and said in a hoarse whisper, "I just can't believe she's gone."

"I know Kaiden. I miss her too. We'll all miss her." Jane said sadly.

Kaiden shook his head, gazing at the floor. "I just...it doesn't feel right." He muttered, more to himself than to her, and Shepard's expression morphed into one of confusion. He saw, and tried to explain.

"It's just...when my dad died, I was out on a training mission near Arcturus. And during the middle of the exercise, I just felt my stomach drop and I got all cold. I new something had happened, and then I got called out and told the news. I _felt it_ when he died, Shepard. But now, with Ashley...I don't. I know it's crazy, but can't help but feel like she's still out there."

Shepard couldn't help but feel pity for her friend, lost as he was in his grief and denial.

"Kaiden," She said softly, "She's gone. There is no way that she could have survived the blast; you can't keep tormenting yourself with this. Grieve as long as you have to, but you need to accept that Ash is gone. And you and I both know that she'd kick you for hiding away like this."

That drew a chuckle from the man, and he again took a deep breath. "I know, Commander. I just...need some time. But you're right, Ashley wouldn't want me to sit around here moping for her. She'd want me to go and put a bullet in Saren's head." He looked at her again, and smiled slightly. "I think I'll stay here a little longer if it's all the same to you, though. I'm not quite ready to deal with the others yet."

"Of course, Kaiden, do what you have to. And if you need to talk, I'm always available." Shepard said, standing.

Kaiden nodded, and she turned to leave.

"Command-Jane...thanks." He called after her.

Jane just smiled back, then continued on to her quarters.

Today had been hell, and she really needed to sleep.

…

 _Somewhere in the Terminus systems, in the medical bay of_ His Silent Blade.

"What is your diagnosis, Sister?"

The sister hospitaller, a woman named Sabe Helone, pulled down her blood-flecked mask as she turned to face the Inquisitor, her apron splattered with blood.

She pulled off her gloves and tossed them into a chute that led straight to the Incinerators five decks below, before turning to a sink and beginning to wash her hands before she finally spoke.

"Brother Theoverus did an admirable job with his field treatment. There wasn't much I needed to do besides remove a few slugs and put a cleaner seal on the injuries, as well as the obvious transfusion to bring her blood levels back up." She said, nodding at the black-haired woman that the Apothecary and Inquisitor Marthas had rushed into her surgery after returning from the xenos vessels. "She is lucky that the Apothecary was there. I doubt she would have survived the flight back had he not given her initial treatment, especially with that severed arm." The sororita paused, then spoke again more hesitantly, "If I may ask, how did you come across her? Were the aliens keeping her prisoner aboard that ship, torturing her?"

The man in the black coat glanced at Sabe. "That is not of importance at the moment. What is the status of the Navigator, and my Apprentice?"

Sister Sabe walked from the surgery as a pair of orderlies, Initiates of the Order of the Peaceful Heart moved to relocate the unconscious woman to another room to begin her recovery. The inquisitor followed her, and she led him to a pair of rooms a short distance from her surgery, where the two Stormtroopers from the bridge continued to stand guard. Sabe punched in a code on one of the doors and it slid open, revealing the sleeping form of the Navigator. Marisa's face was peaceful, and her chest rose and fell steadily.

"Her vital signs were fluctuating for about a half hour, but they stabilized. She seemed to have gone through a very severe shock." Sabe said.

 _You have no idea, my dear_ Marthas thought. "And Bethany?" He asked.

Sabe moved to the other side of the hall and opened the door there, revealing an identical room where Bethany was sleeping, much like the navigator. Her face relaxed a great deal in sleep, and she lost the world-weary expression that always faintly adorned her features, regardless of her expression.

"She suffered an overload of energy from the warp when we transferred. She'll recover, but the Interogator will be out of commission for at least a day, if not longer." Sabe said.

Marthas nodded his satisfaction. "Good work, Sister. What of the other crewmembers injured in the event?"

"Mainly minor injuries, maybe a dozen major lacerations and broken bones, and a handful of deaths from electrical explosions and falling debris. When the Captain gets the _Blade_ back up and running, her crew will be little worse than before we hit that damnable rift." She shuddered at the memory of the instant she thought of that wall of pure warp energy, making the sign of the Aquila.

Marthas nodded again. "Very well Sabe, I shall leave you to your work." He said simply, then turned and quickly made his way from the sickbay, heading for the interrogation rooms; which were disturbingly close together, in fact.

Marthas was lost in a strange place, bereft of any knowledge of it's dangers, and without a purpose for his warships and soldiers.

And he had four... _guests_ to help him remedy these problems.

…

 _Craftmoon_ Isha's Dream, _one hour later._

Reyalla swallowed nervously, her eyes locked on the small white button with so much power. She stood on a podium in the small council chamber which had been a meeting place for the farseers charged with overseeing the craftmoon.

At least, before they fell to the Devourer.

Now they were privy to her alone, the last surviving farseer of craftworld Dan-Varr, leading the 1.5 million surviving eldar of her homeland, lost in time and space.

And now, it was time to explain to all of them what had happened, and what they would do now.

 _Isha, let them understand._ She prayed silently, _And Master, help me to guide our people to a better future._

She took a deep breath, and hit the button.

Across the massive vessel, small lights beside ceiling and wall mounted speakers blinked on, and Reyalla's image appeared on thousands of screens as the people of the craftmoon waited with baited breath for their leader, their savior, to tell them what had happened.

"Brothers, sisters, today is a day of change. Whether this change will be for better or for worse, I know not, for the strings of fate are ever changing, and none can be sure what is to come." Reyalla paused, then continued. "As some number of you likely already know, if those of you watching and listening were to remove your soulstones, you would find the pull of she-who-thirsts is gone."

Reyalla smiled, a small, honest curving of her lips as she waited a moment for thousands of her kin to frantically remove the gems they wore to see if she spoke true. "Yes, it is true. By the grace and planning of Lady Isha and Lord Cegorach, we have been thrust beyond the grip of our most ancient enemy, thrown from the grim darkness of the far future into a distant past. But not the one we knew." She stopped again, feeling the confusion of the people at her words. "For our Gods did not just send us through time, but beyond our reality, and into another; a place where the warp is free of daemons, where the Mon'keigh do not squabble endlessly in pointless conflict, but instead band together in a modicum of civilization, spouting words of peace and cooperation." She couldn't help but let a little scorn show at the naivety of these younger races.

"We are in a gentler land, one where our people can find a hidden place among the stars; to grow, rebuild, and eventually reveal ourselves to these young races when we have once again grown strong." Her face turned grim. "But, we cannot idle in this. For despite the naive dreams of this 'council', a great threat looms on the horizon. A tide of machines, like the bastard spawn of necron and tyranid, waiting beyond the boundaries of the galaxy to sweep through and wipe out all intelligent life, as they have done every fifty thousand cycles for a billion years." She paused.

"As they did to our cousins of this reality."

And then Reyalla called upon the true power of the chamber, and channeled her power to show the residents of the craftmoon her memory of the long-dead captain's final moments, on their screens and in their minds. They saw the devastation, the slaughter these reapers had sown, and they saw how their distant relatives fought even to the last moment, denying the monsters their victory by destroying themselves.

"But they were children compared to us; and even then, they cut great swaths from the fleets of their foe." Reyalla appeared again, a determined look on her face. "We are a people hardened by horrors the beings of this reality could never comprehend. What are these... _squids_ before the might of the Eldarin?"

"So, we shall fade from the galaxy at large; we will grow, we will build, and when the monsters crawl from the darkness to reap their tally, we will emerge, like saviors from heaven to slice through their flanks and smash the destroyers into ash and scrap. And when we are through, and the galaxy is safe," the farseer grinned, confidence oozing from her image, "Their _Council_ will throw themselves at our feet and sing our praises for millennia to come."

She straightened, and held open her arms. "Rejoice, my friends. For the eldar have come again. And this time, nothing shall stop our rise!"

And across the massive ship, tens of thousands of musical voices raised in cheer, to celebrate the start of a new chapter in the history of the Eldar people, and indeed, the galaxy.

…

"So, Inquisitor, what exactly happened when we went through that rift?"

Marthas glanced at the holographic rendition of Rolbert Turin; the grizzled old Captain of the _Watchful Gaze_ was,as always, eager to get down to business.

Marthas sat at the head of a long table in the _Blade's_ war-room. He had gathered his commanders and captains together to discuss their situation, after spending an hour _questioning_ the mercenaries they had taken captive on the blue suns ship.

Now, he felt confident he could explain the situation to his subordinates. And, more importantly, he had a plan.

He gazed around the table, again taking a count of the gathered men and woman. Flanking him were Sergeants Osiris and Drak Lothbrok, the hulking Space Wolf dressed in black robes, the Lamenter still in his power armor. farther back, in the shadows, Librarian Persax watched, absorbing information as always.

Seated to his left around the large ovular holotable was Captain Dracov, who waited quietly for his commander to begin: excluding an aura of patience that set an example for some of the younger people at the table.

To his right was Navigator Marisa, who had recovered enough to attend this meeting. Her skin was still a little more pink than usual, but her sharp glare prevented much staring.

His captains were still onboard their ships, and so appeared by hologram: Captain Rolbert, with his large bushy mustache, appeared beside his partner and student, Felicia Viron, who's short blond hair was worn in a ponytail, showing her young but attractive face.

Across from the pair were the Partia sisters, both dressed in meticulous dress uniforms; Isabella's accented by white, Victoria's by black. They looked remarkably similar, with thin necks, high cheekbones, and long silvery hair worn loose to flow down their backs. The most noticeable difference was their eyes; Isabella had two greyish-blue irises, while Victoria had only one accompanied by a red lens.

Captain Yerral of the _Guardian_ was the odd man out, sitting across from an empty seat. That didn't seem to bother the former hiver, his homely, rather plain features set in a look of concentration as he muddled over what was so important as to warrant such a meeting as this.

Next to Yerral was Colonel Barria Terix, commander of the platoon of stormtroopers that were onboard the _Blade_. He was dressed in his usual deep green carapace armor, with a white beret on his balding head. Though the man seemed to be compensating for the lack of scalp hair with his large brown mutton chops.

Across from the Colonel was Sister Superior Sabe of the Order of the Peaceful Heart, who handled the majority of the medical personnel onboard. Her red hair was now loose and hung at shoulder length, her hazel eyes scanning between the faces at the table.

Lastly, at the far side of the table, were the members of the mechanicus who accompanied the Inquisitor: Magos Rik Zerrus, and techpriests Mav Paulus and Cerci Hasta.

The martians were all shrouded in the red robes of their order, with little more than their faces uncovered.

Zerrus didn't have much of a face to speak of anymore, the area overrun with wires and tubes that flowed from where his mouth had once been, and his eyes glowed red from the depths of his hood. Those nearest him could hear the quiet scrap of metal on metal as the senior priest shifted, hinting at changes hidden beneath the biologist's robes.

Cerci's hood was lowered, and she was by far the most human-looking of the three (which was mildly surprising, considering her expertise in bionics). Chin-length black hair framed a round, almost impish face. Her olive skin was unmarked and her eyes were a pale, but not unnatural green color. However, if one looked closely they would see lines of code streaming across her corneas.

Mav was a mix of tech and organic, with a third of his face, including his right eye replaced with a red-lensed targeting array. What was left of his organic form was a hard, almost brutish countenance one would expect to see on an underhive enforcer, not a member of the Martian Brotherhood. He was a large man, his natural size combined with his combat-centered augmetics putting him only slightly below a space marine in terms of size.

"Yes, Inquisitor, where have we arrived among the stars to warrant such a meeting as this?" Rasped Zerrus, his mess of tubing vibrating as a flat, synthetic voice emerged from the depths of his robes. "And what could be so important as to cause you to bring not one, but _three_ new species of xeno onboard? And without even a single specimen for me, I must add."

Again, Marthas ran his eyes around the room as a few of his commanders, notably Rolbert and Terrix started somewhat at this revelation, shooting the inquisitor questioning looks.

 _Best to get this over with quickly._ The Inquisitor thought, standing slowly from his chair, feeling every one of his many years as he met the gaze of his officers, and now some of a very limited pool of people he could count on.

"To be _extremely_ blunt, ladies and gentlemen, we are no longer in the Imperium of Man, nor the 41st millennium, nor even our home galaxy. Through some twist of fate or trick of the warp, that rift sent us over thirty-seven thousand years into the past, and indeed, into another reality altogether." He took a deep breath, then continued. "Here, there is no Chaos, no Imperium, and, as far as I can tell, no Emperor."

There was a pregnant pause, and then most of the people at the table began shouting in the general direction of the inquisitor, in disbelief, in confusion, or even in anger.

Marthas indulged them their noise for a few moments, before his eyes flashed with psychic power and he muttered with a warp-enhanced voice. " _ **Enough.**_ "

Instantly the room fell silent. Everyone here new better than to interrupt the inquisitor when he spoke such. They had all seen what happened to both heretics and other imperials who did so in the past.

Marthas looked each of the people in the room in the eyes, then spoke again. "This is the truth of our situation, my friends. Whether we like it or not, it is what has happened. The evidence, from the disappearance of the Astronomican to the presence of four xeno species never before catalogued on two ships in the same system, and the memories of some of said xenos point to no other conclusion. We are in another reality, one free of the horrors of chaos, unconquered by the might of Mankind, and bereft through one reason or another of the Emperor's light."

"Then what are we to do, Inquisitor? If this is true, what purpose have we?" Asked Colonel Barrian, the old soldier reeking of doubt and fear over this new unknown, one so far beyond what the simple man could have ever imagined, even after joining the Inquisition.

Marthas looked thoughtful, then looked at the marine at his side. "Sergeant Lothbrook, what is our duty, as soldiers of the Imperium and agents of the Inquisition?"

"To defend mankind from the threats from within, from without, and from beyond." The fenrisian growled immediately.

"Sergeant Osiris, does this duty end if there is no Imperium?" Marthas asked, turning to the Lamenter.

"No, my lord. As long as there is a humanity to fight for, we must fight." He said.

Marthas looked back at his commanders. "Notice, lords and ladies, that I did not say that mankind does not exist in this reality. They do, just not as the Imperium." The expressions of the people at the table grew more hopeful at this, and Marthas continued. "They are known as the System's Alliance, and incredibly, our people have only been exploring the void of space for fifty years at this point." There were some scoffs at this, but he continued. "What is more, far from battling the xeno species it encountered, mankind has forged a place in a galactic civilization of species known a the 'citadel council.'" He could not hide some disgust at speaking this, and several people at the table actively recoiled at such an idea.

"However, this is not to say mankind is at peace. The System's alliance has been engaged in a 'cold war' with a species of treacherous slavers known as batarians whose territory borders their own." He his a few commands on the table and an image of one of the slain blue suns appeared above the table. "These aliens have been raiding and enslaving humans, and indeed all of the xenos of the galaxy, for _over a hundred years_ , alongside roughly fifty percent of their own population for who cares how much longer." He sneered. "And as you all know, I _despise_ slavers."

He paused, adopting a thoughtful stance. "So, allow me to gather my thoughts. We are sworn, as soldiers of the imperium, to defend mankind against the threat without-xenos, the threat within-heretics, and the threat beyond-chaos," Marthas said, raising a finger for each foe he named. A few of the men and women around the table began to see where the Inquisitor was going with this, and grins began to spread across their faces. "However, chaos as we know it does not exist in this reality," He dropped one finger, "Heresy _cannot_ exist due to the lack of the emperor's existence in this reality," another finger down, "So that leaves us with the enemy without, the alien." He gestured at the picture over the table. "And I believe that the Batarian Hegemony is the perfect target for us to execute our sacred duty upon."

Murmurs of agreement began to circulate the table, but then Captain Yerral voiced the question that Marthas had been hoping for.

"With all due respect, Inquisitor, we are but six ships; and you wish us to take on an entire empire? That is not the kind of plan we have come to know you for; that is suicidal madness."

The other in the room froze, but Marthas just laughed. "Did I fail to mention that, compared to us, the races of the galaxy are throwing rocks at each other and armoring their ships in paper and dreams? The largest combat vessel in the known galaxy is barely a kilometer and a half long, and their FTL technology is four times slower than our own."

Yerral seemed somewhat placated, but still pushed. "Enough stones can fell even the mightiest of warriors, my lord. And I imagine that a species so violent as these batarians seem to be would have quite a few stones at their disposal."

Marthas nodded. "True enough captain. But they need a target for those stones if they are to be of any use."

This statement drew confusion, so Marthas spoke further. "I do not plan for us to destroy the batarians with brute force. Their society already teeters at the brink of self-destruction, and the other races of this galaxy will offer no help if the enslaved masses rise up against their superiors. The whole species is a powder keg; all that's needed is to light a match."

Understanding spread among the imperials. "You mean to set the species at war with themselves. Like you did with the Teraxi." Mav said, his voice thick and deep.

Marthas grinned. "Exactly. But to do that, we need information. Information that we cannot get from my captives. So, some...bargaining will be in order." Marthas gestured at the room, and all stood. "Captains, I want your ships combat-ready as soon as possible. Colonel, get your men ready for a boarding action. Sergeants, the same for your squads. Everyone else, standard procedure." He began to leave the room, but turned as the door slid open. "We are in a new galaxy, my friend. With new threats, new goals, and most importantly, _new rules._ Be aware, we'll likely end up breaking many of the old ones before all is said and done."

And with that, he left the room with a flourish of his coat.

…

Priora was very, _very_ confused as to what was happening, and where in the Goddess' name she was.

All she knew for sure was that this whole situation was about as fucked as anything she had ever gotten into in the past. And given her past, that was saying something.

She and the others had been escorted back to the airlock the strange humans had come from, finding out that there were in fact not four, but _seven_ of the black-armored giants among this group. Which lowered their chance of escape from nearly impossible to don't even try. Then the giant in the white helmet had come back to the ship carrying a seriously injured human woman none of them had ever seen before. Shortly after the old man had come back, a troubled look on his face, and they left the ships behind. They reached what had to be the stranger's ship, and landed in a hangar that had to be a part of a dreadnought, based on the size.

 _Oh, lovely, they have a dreadnought. Why wouldn't the guys with the giants and teleporting people have a dreadnought._ She'd thought.

Moments after they landed, the group had been separated at gunpoint. Or, cannon-point, considering the size of the giant's guns. She had been taken to a small, bare cell without even a bed and shoved inside. She tried to use her biotics to force open the door, as she heard the giant walk away, but no matter how much she wailed on the door, it would not budge.

So she sat, and waited, and over an hour later, two men in bulky green combat armor and strange, boxy rifles had entered the room and roughly dragged her through the halls to this new room, which based on appearance and the table surrounded by chairs, was a questioning room.

She had been in the room for about five minutes when the door opened again, and Petrov was tossed inside by more of those soldiers, falling to the floor as they closed and locked the door.

"Shit, Nik! Are you alright?" Priora yelped, rushing to the side of her teammate as he slowly pushed himself off the floor. She winced as she saw the man's bloodied and bruised face, reaching down to help him up. "Damn, what happened?"

The human spat out a glob of blood and saliva into the corner as he stood with the asari's help. "A word of warning; don't try and punch the old man in the coat. The soldiers don't like it when you do that." He said, his swollen tongue slurring his speech somewhat.

Priora shook her head. "Damn it Nikolas, what made you think that was a good idea?"

He glared at her. "The bastard fuckin _melded_ with me. What was I supposed to do, just accept that? And what the fuck is he, how can a human even _do_ that?"

Priora took a step back. "Wait, he did that to you to?"

Their conversation was interrupted as the door opened again and Oceno stumbled into the room at the shove of a soldier. The batarian medic turned to snarl at the man, but the door was slammed in her face. She turned back to her friends, and all four eyes widened at the sight of Nik's face.

"God damn it, you insulted someone, didn't you?" She said with exasperation, moving to take a look at the human.

"I didn't...Well, yes. But that wasn't what set them off. Hell, I don't even know if those assholes understood a word I was saying. This," he gestured to his face, "happened when I took a swing at the guy from the ship after he...melded with me." He shuddered at the thought, and Oceno took a step back in surprise.

"That happened to you to? I half thought I had gone crazy…" She said.

"It happened to me to, back on the _Deal._ That was what he did when he grabbed my head." Priora said. "But...I don't think it was a meld. It didn't...feel right."

The door opened again, and this time the group was more or less ready when Verris limped in, the guards giving him a lighter push than the others. He looked at the three of them, then back at the door, and said. "This is a rather interesting development, don't you think?"

The others rolled their eyes at this, even as Oceno went to look at the marksman's wounds. "How can you find this 'interesting', Verris. We've been taken captive by some strange faction who none of us have ever seen or heard of before. Who know what they plan to do to us?" she said.

"Well, I have a theory…" Began the Salarian.

"Of _course_ you have a чертов theory." Muttered Nikolas as he sat in on of the room's chairs.

"Nik." Priora said, and the russian quieted. "What have you got, Verris? Can't be any worse than what we've come up with."

"Well, I assume that old man came and 'melded' with each of you?"

"Yes, but I don't think it's melding the way asari do it." Priora said, leaning against the wall.

"I agree, it wasn't like any of the time's I've melded with asari before." Verris said offhandedly, not noticing the strange looks he friends gave him. "But, while he was in your minds, did you notice any patterns in the stuff he was looking at?"

"Yeah…" Oceno said after a moment. "He was looking at a lot of general information about the galaxy. Politics, technology, the different races...just, normal stuff that anyone should know."

"Exactly!" The salarian said. "I think…"

Whatever Verris would have said fell silent as the door opened again, this time admitting the man who had begun this discussion.

The old man in the coat walked into the room and regarded the four of them with a slight sneer before gesturing to the chairs at the room's table. They exchanged a glance, unsure whether they should comply, and he sighed in exasperation and pulled back his heavy coat, revealing a holstered pistol and giving a silent threat.

The four reluctantly sat down and the man took up his place on the other side of the table. The two groups regarded each other for a few moments, and just as Priora decided to demand an explanation to why they were here, the man spoke, this time in English.

"The salarian was not to far off in his guess. I was looking for information on this galaxy; we haven't had much...experience with it yet. As to why," He glanced at Ocena, who closed her mouth as his gaze shifted to her, "that will remain my business for the foreseeable future. Now, as to why I have gathered you here and not simply executed you once I got what I needed."

Not giving the four the chance to absorb the fact that he had been ready to execute them, Marthas continued. "Me and my men have found ourselves without a cause at this point in time, but thanks to your memories, I believe I have found a solution to this problem; as well as a way for the four of you to make yourselves useful to me. Which," He said, his voice taking on a menacing tone, "is something you should want. I have not time for useless things. Especially _xenos_."

His tone changed again, back to the general conversational tone he had first used. "Now, a question. What do you all think of the Hegemony?"

Ocena's expression darkened at the man's words, and Petrov spat out another bloody globule of saliva. Verris sniffed with distaste. "A destructive, backward regime that should have been dismantled years ago," he said

"Dismantled? No, it needs to be obliterated, ground into dust, it's very memory spat upon and held up as an example of how _not_ to run an interstellar government." Ocena snarled.

"It's because of those ублюдки I'm not happily married on Mindoir right now. As far as I'm concerned, those bastards can burn in the deepest pits of hell for all eternity." Nikolas said, his voice carrying a quiet rage.

The man was smirking as he looked at Priora, and she again felt a chill run down her spine. "The Hegemony has caused little but pain to the rest of the galaxy since it first emerged. I won't shed any tears is and when it finally curls up and dies." She said, her voice hard.

"Excellent." The man said, leaning back in his chair. "In that case, I should probably introduce myself." He stood, and bowed with a flourish of his arm. "Lord Inquisitor Marthas Devinir, Executioner of the Batarian Hegemony." He straightened again, and grinned darkly at their confused faces. He looked only at Priora, though, and his next words sent another chill down her spine.

"Now, Miss. T'loak, I need your assistance in arranging a meeting with your mother. There are several things I'll need to begin the destruction of a galactic power, and I think that the Queen of Omega should be able to help me get them."

 **Russian Glossary:**

чертов-fucking

мать лохи-mother fuckers

 _ **A/N**_

 _And so begins the next story arc for our out-of-place travelers. The Eldar are to vanish from the galactic stage (for the time being), and the Imperials have a target. What could possibly go wrong!_

I'd like to thank fellow FF.N user Doomeater for proof-reading this chapter for me, and of course all of you for coming back to read this strange thing that I've been putting on the internet. I'm glad so many of you seem to like it.

That concludes things for now, so as always, Review, Follow&Fave if you're new, and as always,

Imperator senatus et populi Romani Dinosaurs!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

" _Omega has one rule: Don't_ fuck _with Aria. Unfortunately, we were all too scared of execution to tell Marthas that before he got there."_

 _-Veriss Faral, original member of the_ Watchers _._

" _The Inquisitor? We never got along, but we both knew that the other had bigger adversaries than each other, so we both more or less stayed out of the other's way. Though he always useful when you needed someone violently slaughtered in a way the underworld would never forget."_

 _-Aria T'loak, the self-styled 'Queen of Omega.'_

...

 _Terminus Systems, Onboard the craftmoon_ Isha's Dream.

"Well, it seems that this is farewell for now."

Reyalla was in one of the large hangars of the craftmoon, which was now back up to full operating capacity, alongside the quartet of warships that flew escort with the massive vessel as it slowly made it's way towards the edge of the solar system.

She smiled sadly, and somewhat disappointed, at the male before her, garbed in a camo cloak and a suit of light mesh armor. He was a touch taller than her, but it was so minor as to be almost imperceptible. He bore the barely visible signs of advanced age, in faint wrinkles around his eyes and the corners of his mouth, as well as a spattering of silver among his rich brown hair. But he still had a youthful gleam to his amber eyes, and a smug smirk on his lips as her disapproval washed over him.

"Tyre, you and the others should stay. We need every eldar we have if we are to be ready when the destroyers come; having a score of rangers running around the galaxy wildly will help neither us nor the mon'keigh."

Tyre shook his head, glancing back at the small ship his fellow rangers were loading with supplies. "I've never been a builder, Reyalla. I can't stand being in one place for too long; and besides, did you really expect me-or any of us-to stick around after you told us there's a whole new _reality_ to explore? Anyway, you don't seem to have an issue with the Harlequins vanishing into the void." Tyre said, gesturing at the colorful eldar on the other side of the hangar loading jetbikes and supplies onto their own vessel.

"They are not citizens of the craftworld; I don't have any authority to ask them to stay." Reyalla said, a sight defensive tone to her voice.

He shook his head. "Even with all the years you have on me, sister, it seems that you don't really understand my motivations." He chuckled. "But then if you did, it would just make it easier for you to control me."

Reyalla sighed at her brother's joking, but the noise transitioned into a soft chuckle of her own. "Well what else is a big sister to do with her time?" She said, only in half-jest. "If you are determined to go, I cannot stop you. So, may Isha watch over you, and Kurnos guide your steps, Tyre." Reyalla placed a hand on her sibling's shoulder and pulled him into a brief hug before stepping away, the two smiling softly at each other.

"Don't worry about me, sister. If I could survive our old reality for three centuries, this place should be no trouble."

"I hope so. Did you say goodbye to Freya? I'm sure she'd be upset if you left before she could bid you farewell." Reyalla said, accepting her brother's wishes at last.

Tyre shifted slightly, his eyes darting away from hers for a moment. Instantly, the seer's instincts cried out that something was up. "Tyre, what's wrong?" She said, her brows furrowing as a suspicion flickered at the edge of her mind.

His gaze moved from Reyalla's face to something behind her. "It might be best if she tells you." He said, gesturing. The farseer turned to see a smaller, female eldar dressed in the garb of a ranger walking towards them. A moment later, she realized that the woman was, in fact her daughter, Freya.

Reyalla's eyes bugged in surprise, then narrowed in anger as she glared at her brother, who was doing his best to avoid her gaze.

She looked back at her daughter and opened her mouth to speak, but Freya beat her too it. "Mother, don't be cross with Uncle Tyre, I asked him not to tell you my intentions earlier." She said, her tone still respectful but firm with conviction.

Reyealla's eyes darted between her daughter and her brother for around a minute, thoughts flying through her head as she processed the fact that her daughter, who was only a little over a century old, wanted to run off into this unknown galaxy as an outcast.

Finally, just as she reached a conclusion, Tyre broke the awkward silence. "Look, Reyalla…" he began, but the farseer cut him off with a wave of her hand. She speared him with an intense glare. "Did you talk her into this?" She asked Tyre, semi-accusingly.

"No, she came to me even before the Tyranids attacked." Tyre said, his body language displaying total honesty.

Reyalla turned now to Freya. "And you are fully committed to this? There is nothing I can say to make you stay?"

Freya nodded sadly, but determinedly. "Yes mother. I find no draw towards the paths, and I feel as though time spent away from the craftworld will help me figure out how I can best help our people. I'm sorry, but this is something I _have_ to do."

Reyalla let out a long breath. "Then I suppose I can do little more than wish you luck on your journeys, and bid you return safely from this quest of yours." She reached into her robe then and pulled out an orb of opaque crystal around the size of an apple and held it out to her daughter.

Freya's eyes widened as she realized what the orb was, and gently took the offered object.

"I was going to give that to your uncle, but I shall give it to you instead now." Reyalla said. "You remember how to use a seeing-stone?"

"Yes, of course mother. I shall take good care of it, and contact you regularly." Freya said, tucking the valuable object away in her pack.

Reyalla smiled softly. "Don't think you need to make reports to me. As long as you have it with you, I shall be able to sense if you are alright. Just use it if you want to talk, or if you decide you want to come home. No matter where you are, I'll send a ship to get you."

Freya smiled back at her mother, hints of tears in her eyes. "Of course, mother. Thank you."

"I'll take a few months to train her, Yalla. She'll be more than ready to take on whatever this galaxy has to offer once we're done." Tyre said.

Reyalla nodded her thanks, then the two women shared a brief embrace. Tyre and Freya then moved to help load the last of the supplies onto the Outcast ship, giving a final wave before climbing aboard.

Reyalla sighed again (a habit this reality seemed to be keen on enforcing on her) and turned to leave when she noticed a Harlequin Player standing a short distance away. Seeing her alone, the dancer approached, nodding respectfully to her.

"Farseer, we are to leave soon, but the Troupmaster requested I give this to you." The harlequin produced a box about a foot wide and a half foot long from...somewhere. The container was made of pure white wraithbone, and had a Crimson gem set into each face. "He said to tell you that, once you have found a world to settle, place the container in the center of where your settlement will be and have the bonesingers perform the Song of Creation to it. It will aid our people."

Reyalla was mildly confused by this, but she new well enough to trust the word of a Harlequin, and better than to ask any questions about what confused her. So she simply nodded in thanks, saying, "Tell he troupmaster I am grateful, and I wish your people the best of luck in the future."

The Harlequin gave a graceful bow, then turned and swiftly made his way back to the ship his people had loaded into.

Reyalla watched as the two small transport vessels rose from the deck of the massive hangar and moved off into space, getting smaller and smaller until, in a flash of color, they were gone.

With sadness in her heart, but also optimism that was strangely bolstered by the box in her hands, the last farseer of Dan-Varr pulled at the tides of the warp and sent out a message to her captains.

 _We are finished here. Turn us to the Void: We have a home to find._

...

Marthas watched from an observation room onboard the blue suns raider as the massive craftmoon slowly made its way towards the edge of the system, dwarfing the quartet of warships that escorted it.

He sighed, pondering what this would mean for the future of this galaxy. The Inquisitor knew that the eldar would return eventually, once they had gathered strength and grown their population. And while a small part of him was...not quite glad, but content that the Farseer's people had been given this chance, he knew that when they did return, they would do so with the intention of becoming the dominant race in the galaxy. He was confident Reyalla was smart enough to avoid all-out war, but she could garner a great deal of power by giving the simplistic races of the galaxy even the paltriest of eldar technologies.

 _Well, I'll just have to make sure Humanity is strong enough to resist her manipulations._

At least his plans were going smoothly for the moment. The techpriests had managed to create a translation program for High Gothic compatible with the translation implants they had scavenged from the corpses of the slain aliens and implanted them into two dozen crewmen and officers, as well as uploading the program to everyone with augmented ears. Now those troops, as well as the native mercenaries, were onboard the Blue Suns raider, trying to get it back into working order.

His train of thought was disrupted as the doors to the room hissed open, and he sensed the psychic presence of the asari, Priora, as well as two of his Stormtroopers who had been assigned to escort the xenos; identical to the other three pairs who were watching over the other mercenaries.

"My lord, the xeno wished to speak with you." One of the Stormtroopers said, his voice somewhat distorted by his breathing mask.

Marthas didn't acknowledge that the man had spoken for a moment, letting the silence hang. Eventually he again spoke.

"How soon can we be underway?" He asked.

"The xenos and the traitor are in the process of instructing the men how to use this technology: at best estimate of the tech adepts we should be underway in twenty to thirty minutes." Said the same man who had spoken before.

Marthas rolled his eyes at the use of 'traitor' to describe the human mercenary, but nodded his understanding, still not turning. "Leave us." He instructed, and the Stormtroopers bowed slightly, turning and going to stand guard outside the room, leaving Marthas alone with the xenos woman.

Again, he let the silence stretch for a moment, sensing the anxiety and nervousness emanating from the alien. At last he turned and regarded her; a form so similar to human, but yet so, so different.

Priora was shorter than him by a few inches, and her figure well proportioned by human standards. Her skin was a darker shade of blue, her face decorated with light grey face paint or tattoos that formed faux-eyebrows that swirled beyond where a humans' would end, curling back along her head and into her head-tendrils, as well as a small inverted triangle below her bottom lip. Her skin was unblemished by scar or hardship, and her face still held some of the glow of youth. She was still in her green and grey combat armor, but was unarmed.

In addition, he could sense a faint hint of warpcraft about the alien: not enough to be evidence of any kind of powers, but enough to peak his interest. But then, that was not the issue at the moment.

"What did you want, xenos?" Marthas said, his voice soft and growling.

Priora started at his sudden speech, but swallowed her fear of the strange man and spoke. "I want to know what, exactly, we are going to Omega for. And why you brought the four of us along as well." She said as forcefully as possible. "Also, some clarification on the whole 'executioner of the hegemony' thing would be appreciated."

Marthas snorted. " _I_ are going to Omega to get the information I need which I could not extract from you and your companion's minds. I brought you along due to your direct connection to the 'Pirate Queen', the Batarian to find someone to buy the cargo of that transport vessel you were on, and the other two to teach my men how to operate this vessel." He turned back to the viewport and watched the eldar vessels continue to move.

"As for the 'executioner' speech, that should be rather self-explanatory. I plan to light the flames of rebellion among the enslaved and browbeaten masses within Batarian space and let the region tear itself apart, with the odd nudge from my forces in the appropriate places."

There was a pause as the Asari digested this information. "Why?" She asked, after a time.

"Simple. The Batarian government has been supporting the predations of pirates and mercenaries on Mankind through their slave-trade, if not outright funding the actions themselves. It is our duty to protect Mankind; so the Hegemony must die."

"And what about what happens after the Hegemony dies?"

"The affairs of aliens are not important, unless they affect Mankind. What the batarians who survive the Inferno decide to do is none of my concern, unless they return to the ways from before their humbling."

She then walked up beside him, another question dying on her lips as she beheld the distant form of the craftmoon.

"By the goddess…" She whispered, eyes widening at the sight of the ships, so large the void of space was unable to conceal it, even at this extreme distance. "How big _are_ those?"

"Well, the craftmoon is around fifty kilometers long, and, while the escorts range between a little over four kilometers and one kilometer." Marthas said, taking a half-step away from the asari.

"Fifty...that's as large as the Citadel!" Priora exclaimed. "How did you build ships that big!?"

Marthas grunted. "We didn't, and haven't for a very long time. Those vessels belong to the Eldar. My largest ship is only five kilometers long, while the other five reside around the one kilometer region."

Priora looked at the old human with a mix of awe and shock. "You realize you just said you have a fleet of dreadnoughts, as well as a...a super dreadnought like it was the most common thing in the universe, right?"

He glanced at her. "Where I'm from, it is."

That caused the asari to fall silent, considering that statement.

A few minutes passed, and neither seemed to know how to end the conversation or continue it.

Finally, Priora spoke. "You know, you don't have to take the cargo from the _Deal_ all the way to Omega if you want to sell it."

Marthas turned, mildly curious. "Explain." He said.

Priora shifted slightly under his gaze, but her fear of the man was beginning to wear off the longer he went without doing weird mind-magic. "We-and by we, I mean the Volus Captain-were heading to a human colony out in the far end of this star-cluster. It's pretty large, and well set-up for a terminus colony; even has a refueling station. The reason we stopped here was because the captain didn't want to pay the docking fees for that station. We could just complete the delivery as planned, and plus you'd be helping out some humans."

Marthas thought on that for a moment; it would mean that they could stay away from the fleet for less time, and he could keep the batarian onboard while they docked at Omega. And as the asari said, he would be providing aide to a human colony.

"I will...consider it." He said at last. "Is that all you had to say?"

Priora hesitated, but she had to ask. "How did you meld with me and the others? No species but the Asari can do such a thing, and you are obviously human. So, how is what you did possible?"

Marthas looked at her, his face unreadable, unbeknownst to her scanning her psychic signature with more detail to find out exactly how much power she had. After a few seconds of holding her gaze, he chuckled quietly. "You all have so much to learn about the things right in front of you. I ' _melded_ ' the same way asari do. I'm just better at it." He turned from the asari again and gestured dismissively. "Now leave. I have many things to consider before we can get underway."

Priora hesitated for a moment, but walked to the exit. She glanced back at the old man in black in time to see the distant specks of the massive 'eldar' starships vanish in a flash of purple before one of the soldiers prodded her with his rifle.

"Move it, xenos," he grunted and she walked away, the door sliding closed behind her.

…

 _The Citadel, Presidium_

 _Why did I expect anything different than this?_ Shepard thought dejectedly as she sat by herself in one of the observation rooms on the Citadel. _They've tried their best to fuck me over at every other turn, so why not here too?_

She was, of course, referring to the Council, who had quietly grounded the Normandy almost the instant the ship landed. Shepard had only found out about it when she had gone to give the councilor's her report in person, and Tevos (now apparently recovered) had said that the Citadel was being put on lockdown, as they feared Saren would launch an attack here, now that his facility was destroyed.

This was despite Jane telling them where Saren was going next, which she had known thanks to a _lovely_ new prothean vision that had interrupted her sleep on the way to the Citadel, as well as a quick clarification meld with Liara.

 _As long as Saren is at Ilos and not here, it doesn't matter what he's doing._ Shepard thought angrily as she watched a pair of turian frigates pull out of a dock on one of the wards.

"Jane?"

Shepard was pulled out of her angry thoughts by Liara's voice behind her, and she turned as the asari sat down on the bench beside her, a small smile on her lips.  
"You can be a very hard woman to find when you want to be, Jane. It took me a while to track you down after you stormed off from the council meeting."

Jane shrugged. "Well, there's a reason I'm an infiltrator." Her expression turned somewhat sheepish as she continued, "And sorry about running off like that, but if I'd stayed in that room any longer I would have punched Sparatus in his stupid, condescending face."

Liara nodded. "Understandable. He seemed almost happy when Tevos denied your request to take a fleet after Saren. Though Councillor Valern did not look pleased about the events."

Shepard sighed, unconsciously leaning against Liara as she gazed at the distant lights of the Citadel's wards. Liara mirrored her, and for a few minutes the women sat in comfortable silence, watching the stars and the station drift through space.

Eventually, Liara broke the silence. "Shepard, there was something you wanted to talk about back on the Normandy, after the meeting with Valern and Sparatus, but you were having trouble. Do you want to talk about it now?"

Jane thought for a moment, on her suspicions, about the nightmare, her vision, and councillor Tevos' 'episode'. She opened her mouth to start talking, when another part of her clamped down on that though. This was not the place or time for this. This was a moment they could share together, and she wasn't about to ruin it now.

So, Shepard smiled, shook her head, and fighting down the butterflies in her stomach, took liara's hand in her own and squeezed it gently, causing the Asari's eyes to widen slightly. "No, let's just enjoy this. Knowing our luck, this might be the last quiet moment we get for a while."

Liara cautiously smiled back, and the two gazed into each other's eyes, seeing their reflections gaze back, as they slowly moved towards each other…

Then, with a loud beep, Jane's omni-tool broke the trance they had fallen into and killed the mood.

The two froze, then Shepard groaned quietly as she activated her omni-tool to see who was messaging her, shooting an apologetic look at Liara, who waved it off with a slight flush visible on her cheeks.

Shepard scanned the message, and her eyes widened in surprise. She jumped up, grabbing Liara's hand and pulling the surprised alien to her feet before practically dragging her from the room.

"Shepard! What's going on?" She cried out in surprise.

"Anderson's found a way to get the Normandy out of lockdown. He's waiting for us in the Flux! Come on!"

…

 _Omega Nebula, Sahrabarik system, Bridge of the raider_ Malice

"Well, that is one ugly space station."

Marthas shot a glare at the crewman who had spoken, but couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. Omega was among the more painful eyesores he had seen in his many years in the service of the inquisition, but he couldn't help but get a sense of perverse majesty from the hunk of debris: for all its chaos and haphazard construction, it was still an impressive structure.

He was standing on the bridge of the commandeered blue suns ship, and they had just come out of FTL a ten thousand km from the former mining station, along with his bridge crew, Priora, and her two stormtrooper escorts in their dark green and grey carapace armor. He was about to say something when another voice, more feminine, piped up behind him, visibly startling Priora.

"Y'know, Inquisitor, it resembles what you'd get if someone ever had the bright idea to build a hive-city in space."

Marthas turned and glanced at the individual who had made that comment, a woman in a black, form-fitting bodysuit with a long braid of red hair running down her back to just below her waist. She had a strange looking pistol holstered on her hip, and a gleaming metal bracer on her right arm. How she had gotten onto the bridge without him noticing, he didn't know, but by now he was more than used to her antics.

"Operative, why are you not in your armor?" He asked.

The Callidus, designated LIX-I, cocked her head at the inquisitor. "My apologies, my lord. I shall be ready in a few minutes." And with that she slunk from the room silently, like a cat.

"Um...who was that?" Priora asked, disturbed by the black-clad woman for a reason she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Operative 59-1, Calidus assassin, also answers to Lixi. She will be helping us to get onto the station without too much hassle from this ship's former owners." He paused, remembering something. "Oh, and go get your four-eyed associate down here as well. She'll be helping us with this as well."

"Um...ok…" Priora said cautiously. She activated her omnitool (which, surprisingly enough had been returned to not just her, but all of them) and messaged Oceno to come to the bridge on the Inquisitor's orders.

The bridge then waited in near silence for almost three minutes as the station got larger and larger in the forward display, before Oceno walked in with her escort, though she was now wearing a suit of Blue Suns armor and had a helmet under her arm.

"You, ah, needed me?" She said, glancing around the room nervously.

"Yes, you and the asari's services will be required shortly, as soon as the Suns on that station notice the ship and contact us for a status update." He looked over at Oceno. "Oh, and put that helmet on. I can't tell the difference between males and females of your species, but I'm sure your own people can, and the good captain didn't have any female crewmembers."

"What are you…" Priora began, but was interrupted as the doors to the bridge opened again, this time admitting Captain Bekis onto the bridge.

The two mercenaries were mildly shocked to see another alien on the ship that they had no prior knowledge of, but Marthas didn't even blink. "About time, operative. We should be getting the communication any minute. You know what to say?"

"Of course, Inquisitor." The Batarian said, bowing at the waist. Priora and Oceno watched, dumbfounded, as the area around the main command console was cleared of human crew just as the incoming message icon flashed.

'Bekis' wasted no time answering, and the scarred face of a batarian in heavy blue armor appeared on the screen.

"Bekis, where the hell have you been! We were expecting you three cycles ago. You'd better have a good explanation for this, or Kragg is going to have your eyes." The mercenary said without preamble.

"Relax, I didn't want to come back empty handed, and the extra waiting paid off. We got a volus cargo ship, full of food, meds, even luxury items. Plus, some more...enticing loot." 'Bekis waved at where Priora and Oceno were standing with the Inquisitor, and the two got the idea of what was needed. Oceno grabbed Priora's arm and roughly pulled the asari into view.

The batarian's mouth almost started watering at the sight of the apparent slave. "Well, I think Kragg can overlook your tardiness with a haul like that."

Bekis chuckled darkly as Oceneo pulled Priora out of frame. "I thought as much. What dock d'you want us to land at?"

"I sent you the coordinates. I look forward to trying out some of your goods." And with that the feed was cut.

Bekis' face changed into one of disgust. "Ug, that xeno is disgusting. I feel a need to gut something after that."

The Inquisitor snorted. "Well, you should get the chance soon enough. Helmsman, take us to the coordinates we just received."

Priora couldn't contain herself anymore. There was too much weird shit going on right now, and she was getting some answers. "Ok, can someone explain what in the seven hells just happened? And who the fuck this blue sun is?!" She shouted.

The bridge went quiet, and Priora worried for a second that she may have pushed her captors too far. Marthas narrowed his eyes, but still responded in his usual tone. "The 'Blue Sun' is Operative Lixi. She used the former captain's face, as well as your and the batarian's guest appearance to get us access to a secure docking bay. Now get down to the portside airlock before I change my mind on how to react to your outburst."

Priora and Oceno stood there for a moment, looking between Lixi and Marthas in shock, before Marthas growled and spat. " _NOW,_ xenos!"

That sent the two scurrying from the room, Stormtroopers in tow, and the disguised Callidus assassin close behind.

Marthas let out an exasperated breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose before raising a hand to his ear and activating his vox-bead. "Sed'hra, get into position. We'll be arriving at the station shortly."

…

The _Malice_ slid up alongside the small dock silently, the docking tube extending to the ship slowly with the creaking of old machinery. In the dock itself, a trio of batarians in blue suns armor waited impatiently for the docking to finish, while a dozen other mercenaries kept watch over a pair of cargo-haulers and three aircars that had ferried most of the mercs to the dock.

Unbeknownst to all of them, a few dozen meters above the dock, an auxiliary airlock had been accessed.

At last, the light on the door turned from red to green, and moments later the door slid open to admit Captain Bekis and another batarian, as well as the asari that Varresh had mentioned. The Centurion at the head of the trio leered at her, before clapping Bekis on the shoulder. "Congratulations, my friend. Some of us had thought you got caught by the turians, you'd been gone so long. Glad to see you were just waiting for a good haul."

Bekis chuckled, then looked over at the mercs guarding the vehicles. "That everyone at this dock?" He asked.

The centurion blinked in confusion at the question. "Yeah, these are the men Kragg sent to help offload your haul. You know this place is normally empty."

"Ah, right, of course." Bekis said. The centurion was getting a bad feeling, and his hand inched towards his pistol a fraction, but he paused when he noticed the gleaming silver gauntlet on his left arm. "Bekis, what happened to your armor?" He said, gesturing at the strange addition.

Before Bekis could respond, loud cursing drew his attention. He turned to where the vehicles were parked, only to find that the whole area was shrouded in thick grey smoke. "What the hell…"

Then, a scream of absolute terror rang out through the dock alongside an angry mechanical roar, followed by flashes of gunfire chattering in the smoke and panicked shouting as the shrouded mercenaries fired at an unknown assailant.

"Shit! What…" The Centurion started, grabbing his Carnifex from his hip, but he never got any further.

In a flash, the silver covering on Bekis' gauntlet shifted shape into a foot long, sickly green blade that cracked with arcs of energy black as the void itself. Like a snake, Bekis darted forward and drove the sword through the Centurion's chest, causing a spray of blood to erupt from his back across his comrades as the tip of the blade punched out his back.

The legionnaires that had accompanied the senior mercenary backpedaled, reaching for weapons, just as a pair of stormtroopers stepped from their spot of concealment inside the airlock with Hellguns raised.

The suns hesitated as these new targets appeared, and that was their final mistake. The Bekis lookalike threw the corpse of their commander at the pair, knocking them away from the initial boarding group and giving Priora the space she needed.

Pulling her arms out of the false-cuffs they had been in, Priora's body flared with a biotic aura as she launched a _lift_ from each of her hands into the batarians, causing the suns to rise up above their heads in time for them to be speared by a dozen red-orange lances of energy as the Stormtroopers opened fire on the helpless xenos, the overcharged las-beams ignoring their kinetic barriers and slicing through their pitiful armor with ease, leaving fist-sized holes blasted out of their bodies where the water in their cells were vaporized explosively by the heat of the laser's passing.

Oceno and Priora, who hadn't seen the Imperials use their weapons yet, were awestruck (and a little disturbed) by this display of a technology which, up until now, had been little better than science fiction to the races of the galaxy.

But things weren't quite concluded yet.

From the smokey mass at the end of the dock, a human blue sun was violently hurled, smashing into the ground with a loud crack. Then with familiar booming footfalls, a black giant emerged from the smoke.

His armor, while colored like the others, was slightly different in make, lacking the raised collar of the members of squad Osiris, and the mouth-grill was replaced with what looked like a rebreather to the aliens. On his back was a massive backpack with what appeared to be rocket-boosters on it. His right shoulder pad was a deep purple color, with the image of a crescent moon and three stars emblazoned on it in white. A large pistol was holstered at his side, along with several grenades, but what caught everyone's attention was the weapon he held in his hands.

It was a kind of polearm, with a long haft that the marine grasped in two hands. In the place of a normal blade there was a two-foot long, slightly curved, double-edged chainblade that purred menacingly as the teeth slowly churned along the blade, still drenched in various colored blood from the now silent mercenaries.

The last sun babbled senselessly as the pushed himself away from the giant, his severed leg pouring blood onto the dirty concrete floor.

In a few strides, the giant was standing over his last victim, and without even a pause, he bent and picked up the man, triggering his blade's teeth to action with a roar, before plunging it through the man's gut and then ripping upwards, viciously tearing him in almost in half with a massive spray of blood that coated his torso in yet another layer of gore.

Priora and Oceno were struck speechless by such a display of utter brutality; even living on Omega for forty years, Priora could only name a half dozen incidents she had seen anything even close to that, and all of them involved either varen, vorcha, or blood-raged krogan. Oceno couldn't even think of a single instance she had seen that would rival that kill, even having seen some of the worst conditions for batarian slaves the Hegemony had to offer.

Marthas walked out of the airlock then, flanked by the two stormtroopers who'd partaken in the ambush. He looked around at the slaughtered mercenaries and the blood-coated space marine, and nodded in satisfaction.

"Excellent, that was executed perfectly. You xenos might prove useful yet. Now asari, we have a Queen to pay visit to, do we not?"

…

From the outside, afterlife certainly looked impressive. The large building was set away from the surrounding architecture, lending it an air of arrogance, of superiority that said only the best or the favored had the right to walk inside.

This was further reinforced by the massive line that stretched away from the front door, and the elcor and krogan bouncers who maintained order.

To Priora, this was as close to a home as she had ever had.

To Marthas, the whole thing just made him annoyed.

The party, consisting of Priora, Marthas, and the two veteran stormtroopers from the dock made their way up to the door, the krogan bouncer stepping in front of the quartet. The trooper's rifles twitched, but a discreet signal from Marthas had them stand down.

"Back of the line, skrags." The bouncer growled. "Even with those fancy guns, you've gotta wait just like the rest of the…" He trailed off, looking intently at Priora for a few moments before a look of recognition crossed his face. "Shit, Priora? Finally come crawling back to Omega, huh? That merc band you scrounged together finally go under?"

Priora glared at the large reptilian. "No, Groz. I'm back to see my mother. I have a few things to discuss with her."

The krogan looked suspiciously at the three humans accompanying the asari. "Then who are they?"

Priora growled in annoyance, secretly worried that the Inquisitor would grow tired of this delay and just kill Groz, which would not end up well for anybody.

"They are part of the conversation, now are you going to get out of my way or am I going to have to make you." She said, flaring her biotics slightly.

The krogan rolled his eyes, but nonetheless stood aside, and the four walked through the large doors into the entry hall, the walls covered with projected flames and lined with comfy seats and small tables occupied by patrons who wanted a slightly calmer environment than the main floor.

The imperials and their guide quickly made their way down the hall, a deep electronic thumping reverberating from beyond the door they approached.

Then the door slid open, and Marthas was smashed by a wall of horrid techno dance music and bright spotlights.

His eyes drifted around the room, from the near-naked asari dancers on the central stage, to the bar along one side of the room, to the tables with 'private' performances by dancers and a open area on the other side of the room where humans and xenos alike swayed and ground together in a press of flesh in time to the 'music'.

 _If you removed the aliens, this place wouldn't be much different from an upper hive strip-joint._ The Inquisitor thought as Priora led the three of them across the room to a staircase that seemed to lead to a glass-shrouded platform above the main area of the club.

Marthas sensed the tenseness of his escorts as they found themselves surrounded by aliens, many armed, and unable to unload their lasguns into the veritable sea of targets. He himself had to all but shut himself off from the warp to avoid being deafened by the cacophony of unprotected thoughts that flew around this place with the aid of copious amounts of drugs and alcohol.

They reached the bottom of the stairs to find their path blocked once again, this time by a batarian with an assault rifle.

"You need an appointment if you want to see Aria." He said in a gruff voice.

"That include her daughter, Anto?" Priora hissed angrily.

The Batarian paused, looking closely at Priora in the dim lights of the club before shaking his head. "No, you can go right up. I hope you have something interesting to say though, Pri, cause she's still pissed at you." He said, stepping to the side.

"Figured as much." Priora grumbled under her breath, making her way up the stairs followed closely by Marthas and the troopers.

At the top of the stairs was the Queen's 'nest', surrounded by one-way glass so she could survey her domain in privacy. There were five guards at the top of the stairs, three batarians and two turians who eyed the group cautiously as they approached.

The queen herself was lounging on a black leather couch, watching these new visitors to her realm with an appraising gaze, eyes narrowing as said gaze fell upon her daughter. The older asari began to speak as soon as the group came to a stop before her.

"So, Priora, you finally come crawling back here after what-six months? Are you so incompetent that you couldn't keep your little group of misfits together for a year?" Aria said.

Priora opened her mouth to respond, but Marthas beat her to it. "Whatever domestic spat you have with your spawn will have to wait, xeno. She is here because of me, and I am here because you most likely have information I need. That is what we are going to discuss today." he stepping forward up into Aria's space.

That was the first mistake that someone made in this encounter.

Reacting on ingrained orders, the guards all drew weapons and pointed them at the humans, one batarian stepping in front of Marthas with a drawn pistol to put someone between Aria and potential harm.

This was the second mistake that was made.

Both the stormtroopers reacted instantly, one grabbing Priora and whirling her between himself and the alien guards, using the surprised asari as a human shield while he trained his hotshot on one of the guards with one hand. The other stepped back, creating some room as she whipped her weapon to bear, rapidly switching targets between the two uncovered guards.

Marthas reacted perhaps a bit more drastically, jabbing the batarian in front of him in the throat with his left hand before he could react, making the alien stagger backwards as he ripped _Brightest Day_ from its sheath with his right hand, activating its power field. The sword glowed pale blue as he used the movement of the draw to turn and slash across the chest of the turian guard behind him, deep enough to badly wound, but not quite enough to kill. He flowed the strike around into a turn back to the first guard and slashing the batarians' weapon hand off at the elbow.

The man screamed in pain and fell to his knees, Marthas turning away from him to shove the bloodied point of his sword against Aria's throat, the asari having stood from her seat in the four seconds that these actions had occurred.

"Now, is that any way to greet someone, your highness?" Marthas said mockingly, his breathing slightly ragged as he locked eyes with Aria.

"You're the one with the sword to my throat and guns on my men." Aria replied coolly, anger smouldering deep in her eyes.

"Hm, true enough. And don't try anything with biotics; I can guarantee you that I can slit your gullet faster than you can call upon whatever abilities you have, and barriers won't stop a foot of energize steel." Marthas said, slowly stepping towards Aria, forcing her to move backwards until she once again sat on her couch. Slowly, he removed his sword from her throat, though he did not sheath it and also drew his Serpenta, training it on the asari.

"Now, 'Lady T'Loak', I do not have any particular interest in killing you, your daughter, or any of your men. As I said, I am only here for information, and once I have what I want, I'll leave you to do...whatever it is that you do to run this floating pile of scrap and shit."

Aria looked back up at this older human, examining everything she could about him, and finding surprisingly little. She prided herself on her ability to read people, but this human was...strange. He was far older than he looked, and he stood like one who has an immense burden on their shoulders, but motivation, conviction, she had nothing.

"Alright then, just this once I'll forgive this transgression you committed by attacking my men; though if you could get the better of them with a _sword_ , they probably deserved it." She said, glaring at the fallen mercs who had patched up their injuries with medigel.

She stood, and Marthas made no move to stop her. Again, the two leaders took measure of each other, and Aria spoke again. "You obviously know who I am, but who in the hell are you? I've never seen armor or weapons like those." She gestured at the stormtroopers, who were still in a standoff with the remaining guards. "And I would have heard about an old man running around with a sword, so you must be new onto the scene."

That elicited a chuckle from Marthas, and he responded. "You could say that. You may know me as The Inquisitor."

Aria gave the human a blank stare, then mentally shrugged. _What do i care if he wants to sound like some pompous asshole._ "All right then, _Inquisitor_ , what is this information you needed so badly as to use my daughter as an express pass to see me?"

Marthas lowered his pistol to his side and sheathed his sword, confident that things had de-escalated enough to make a show of lowering his weapons, and motioning for his guards to do the same.

Besides, if they tried anything, he could rip their minds to pieces in a matter of seconds. Though then he'd have to be carried out of here.

"What I want to know is rather simple. I need to know where one could find batarian military vessels outside Hegemony space. Plans or schematics on the interior design of their most common ships would be welcome as well. Give me this, and I'll be on my way."

"And why do you need this information?"

"I have taken some...issues with the actions of the batarian government. Take from that what you will."

"And what would I get in exchange for giving you this information? The batarians give me a lot of business, why should I help someone who apparently wishes to attack them?"

She saw the Inquisitor's eye twitch, but it was a tiny movement. There was a pause, as if he was caught off guard by her negotiating and was thinking of what he could offer. Eventually he responded. "I can offer you three names."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"You name three individuals, organizations, ships, or locations of your choice, and I will obliterate them. If you wish for silence, none shall know from whom the killing blow came. If you want to send a message, then their death will ring with your name across the length and breadth of the known galaxy; and if you want to show strength, than nothing will be left of your foe but ash. That is what I offer in exchange for this information." The Inquisitor said.

Aria took a moment to consider this offer. She had people for all these jobs, of course, so she didn't _need_ his help... but there was something about this human and his companions, that said they could get at people even her vast network of scum and criminals couldn't.

And in any case, it'd be interesting to see just what the man had in store for the Batarians.

"Alright Inquisitor, we have a deal." Aria activated her omnitool and pulled up a few files "My sources tell me that a batarian cruiser is meeting up with a pair of frigates in one of the nearby systems to resupply the smaller ships and take on any 'cargo' they may have acquired while patrolling the terminus systems. Usual procedure for the Batarian navy, and they won't be expecting anyone out here to have the balls to attack three professional military ships."

Marthas nodded. "Send the coordinates to your daughter's omnitool. Pleasure doing business with you, _your highness._ " He said, turning to leave.

Aria narrowed her eyes. "You have your information. You don't need Priora for anything else. Leave her here, we have some issues to discuss."

Marthas stopped and turned back, his expression stony.

Priora finally spoke, sensing things could go very bad here. "Mom, I'm fine, don't…" But was, again, interrupted by Marthas.

"On the contrary, xeno," he said in a quiet voice, "I have plans that require the involvement of your spawn. So she will be coming with me. Our business is done, so honor our deal. _Or else_." And, unseen by the other aliens in the room, the Inquisitor's eyes flared with otherworldly indigo fire, blazing threateningly at the Queen of Omega.

She started, surprised and, for the first time in a long while, frightened by the fires, sending the files to Priora with a remembered ease.

A quiet ding indicated successful transfer, and the flames in the human's eyes dimmed. "Thank you." He said quietly, then with a flair of his coat walked past the guards, his men following close behind with Priora firmly held in their grip.

Aria watched the four make their way back across the floor of the club, and saw Priora look back up at their booth just as they reached the door.

And then with a yank, she was gone again.

Aria let out a tired sigh as some of her on-call medics moved to help the wounded mercs at last.

 _I hope you know what you're doing, Priora._

…

SSV _Normandy,_ On route to Ilos.

"We're away, commander. It should be a couple hours until we reach Ilos; I'll notify you once we're close _."_ Joker said, turning back to Jane Shepard, who was standing at the door to the cockpit, a relieved expression on her face.

Jane nodded in understanding. "Good work Joker. Tell me if anything comes up."

"Will do commander." The pilot said before turning back to his controls.

Jane turned back into the main body of the CIC, wondering what she was going to do with her time until the mission. _I could go talk with Liara..._ she thought, but quickly decided against it. Something had happened between them on in the lounge on the citadel, and she wasn't sure she was ready to address it quite yet. So she decided to go and check on her gear, make sure it was all in proper order, especially since Ash wasn't…

Shepard visibly flinched as that thought crossed her mind, but shook her head and continued down to the crew deck and made her way to her locker, getting to work looking over her weapons and armor.

She finished quickly, finding everything to be in order, and stood to go. However, when she turned, she found Liara standing almost right next to her, watching Jane work with a small smile on her lips.

Jane started, surprised that she had been so oblivious as to miss the asari walking up to her. "Oh, Liara, I'm sorry, it didn't notice you…" She stammered.

"It's fine Jane, it's amusing to see you get so involved in something." Liara said with a small laugh, which Jane echoed not to awkwardly.

They were both quiet for a moment, then Liara spoke again. "So, we near the end. Just a few hours until we finally finish this whole journey, one way or another."

"Yeah, it seems so surreal, after everything that's happened over these last couple weeks...the Thorian, the Rachni, Ashley…" Jane shook her head. "I'm certainly a different person now than I was before this started."

"I am as well, thanks in large part to you, Jane." Liara said with a smile. "I've certainly become more confident fighting at your side, and now I can actually hold a conversation with people without _completely_ embarrassing myself in the first dozen sentences."

The both chuckled at that, and Jane finally decided to just go for it.

"Look Liara," she started, taking the asrai's small, soft hands in her own, "we both know that this could be the last mission for us, or hell, it could decide if the galaxy lives or dies, and I don't want to go into this with any regrets, so I need to tell you…"

Jane didn't get a chance to finish, as Liara chose that moment to lean in and capture her mouth in a kiss.

Jane stiffened for a second in surprise, but quickly melted into the contact, kissing Liara back with all the emotions she had kept bottled inside almost since she saw the 'young' asari, her hands wrapping around her lower back.

After what felt like an eternity, the two women pulled apart, breathing sharply as the gazed into each other's eyes.

"I love you too, Jane. Almost since I saw you." Liara said. "And I don't want to go into this with any regrets either."

Jane grinned widely at that, stepping back and talking Liara's hand, gently leading her towards her quarters.

"Then let's make sure not to leave anything out."

 ** _A/N:_** _Merry Christmas/Hanukkah/whatever you celebrate, my lovely readers. Here's another chapter for you all, just in time for the holidays. Mainly just some set-up for future events, but there was a little slaughter in there for you Khornates hiding in the back. Also, bonus points for anyone who can identify the weapon our newest Deathwatch operative was using._

 _Thanks again to everyone who has followed and faved. 200 follows...shit, that's another milestone this story has gotten for me. And more thanks to everyone who reviews, be it with good or bad comments. I appreciate it all; here's hoping we can get to 100 reviews._

 _Also, shout-out to the FF.N user Doomerater, who I've been helping with some projects he's working on, and who's been helping me out with NM. Go check out his ME/40k crossover,_ Of Dancers and Pilgrims. _It's rated M, so you may have to adjust your filters. But it's a good story, and he's got good stuff lined up for the future._

 _That concludes this author's note,_ _so as always, Review, Follow &Fave if you're new, and as always,_

Imperator senatus et populi Romani Dinosaurs!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

" _The condition of man... is a condition of war of everyone against everyone."  
Thomas Hobbes, 17th century English Philosopher._

 _"These Space Marines are not just soldiers; they are a force of nature, able to single-handedly turn the tide of a war with a single, decisive strike. They are unstoppable, relentless killing machines that will do whatever it takes to complete their objectives, regardless of loss to either allies of civilians. To put it simply? They are the living embodiment of the human understanding of War, and in that they terrify me."_

 _-Last field report of Salarian Specter Arort Arlan, assigned to investigate reports of Deathwatch activity on the Batarian-held planet of Willux._

…

 _Terminus Systems, approaching the hangar bay of the_ Indomitable-class _light cruiser_ His Silent Blade.

Marthas furrowed his brow as he stood near the airlock of the commandeered raider, reading the information he had acquired from Aria on Priora's 'commandeered' omni-tool. The device was surprisingly easy to use, and had a remarkable variety of uses. He'd need to get one of his own at some point, as well as for his senior officers. They could potentially make emergency communication much easier.

But that wasn't what he was worried about right now.

According to this intel, the Hegemony vessels were scheduled to rendezvous in less than four hours. The system they were to meet in wasn't too far away, but he'd have to move faster than he would want to catch the ships together and maximise his chances of preventing any of them escaping.

The airlock chimed and Marthas was moving before it was even fully open, leaving the Mercs and troopers behind him scrambling to catch up.

"Don't bother, I won't be here for very long." Marthas said over his shoulder. "Sergeant, take them over to the _Guardian of Faith_ and secure them in the conference room, then wait for further orders."

"Yes, my lord." The man said, saluting before the party turned back onto the ship as the door slid closed again.

Marthas strode purposefully through the halls towards a specific section of the ship, contacting a series of individuals as he went.  
First, the heads of his Deathwatch squads.

"Sergeant Osiris, Sergeant Lothbrok, get your squads together and meet me in the hangar bay in the quarter hour. We have a new set of targets and a limited window with which to engage them."

'Yes, my lord." Osiris replied.

"Aye, Inquisitor, we'll be there shortly." Lothbrok grunted.

After that, the twins.

"Varsius, Tellara, grab your equipment and head to the hangar."

"Very well, Inquisitor." Came Varsius' reply. Tellara was silent, but he knew that she'd be there as he requested.

Next, was Choirmaster Nemmet.

"Nemmet, take another of your surviving charges and head to the hangar. I will have need of you soon."

"Of course, Lord Devinir. I'll head out at once." The old psyker said, voice deep and smooth.

Then, Navigator Marissa.

"Navigator, have you and the others ascertained if we shall be able to ply the Sea of Souls without the Astronomican?"

"Yes Inquisitor, the calmness of the Immaterium will allow me and my peers to read our locations from the currents, and travel should be far more reliable and notably safer with the lack of Daemons and Warp-storms in this reality."

"Good, how well do you know the navigator of the _Guardian?"_

"Meister Baroque is almost as good as me, my lord. I'd trust his sight with my life."

"Good."

Lastly, as he neared his destination, he contacted Captain Dracov on the bridge.

"My Lord, I assume your mission was a success based on the sudden movements of Astartes around my ship?"

"Yes Captain: I need you to contact the _Guardian,_ tell them to get ready for a warp jump, and to have a squad or two of their stormtroopers ready for a boarding action. Then, once the Guardian has made the jump, I want you to take the fleet out of the system under sublight engines and wait in the long dark for us to return. I don't want some random Turian or Batarian patrol to stumble upon us before we get our footing."

"Understood Marthas, it will be done."

The Inquisitor cut the feed just as he walked into the medbay.

…

In her 32 years of existence, Bethany Quiriam had spent nine years as a member of the Adeptus Arbites on the hive-world of Garus II, and another three training under Marthas. She had seen and done a great many things in the service of the Emperor, and some she still regretted even years later. She was a talented Biomancer and an expert on urban combat and breaching tactics, and even if her swordplay could use a lot of improvement she was devastating in close-quarters with her power maul.

None of this helped to alleviate the boredom she had felt for the last few hours since rousing from unconsciousness.

She remembered something happening with Gerakas' ship, then incredible pain before all went dark. She asked Sister Sabe what had happened, but the hospitaler had said that her master would be able to better explain than her. Unsatisfied, she'd tried to leave and find answers for herself, but the pair of stormtroopers outside her door had put a swift end to that plan, so she'd been sitting here, waiting for Marthas to come back from whatever he was doing right now.

She was honestly considering using her telepathy to force them to let her by when the door slid open, and the black-cloaked inquisitor looked in, a small smile flitting across his face as he saw her awake.

"Good to see you up, Bethany." He said, taking a step inside.

She straightened her posture and stood from her seat on the edge of her bed, bowing her head. "Master." She greeted him, wincing internally as she heard the irritated edge of her tone.

Marthas noticed, and paused whatever he had been about to say. "How long have you been awake?" He asked.

"Uh...a few hours, my lord." She said.

He sighed and ran a hand down his face. "My apologies, Bethany." He said. "I thought you'd be out far longer than that; I figured I'd be back from Omega either before or shortly after you awoke. You must have been rather annoyed to be stuck here like this."

"It wasn't that big of an issue, master…" She trailed off. "Wait, what's Omega?"

"Ah, yes…" Marthas said, glancing away from her and off into space, collecting his thoughts. "There are quite a few things I need to catch you up on. It might be best if you sit."

Worried now, Bethany did as requested, taking a seat on the edge of her bed as the inquisitor grabbed the room's lone chair for himself.

After a few moments of silence, Marthas met her questioning gaze; his hard green eyes boring into her soul in that strange way only a few others could.

"I shall be concise, Beth," he said in a quiet voice, "the warp-rift that Gerakas triggered, which knocked you out, has somehow transported us both back in time, to M. 3, and also into another dimension, wherein neither the Gods of Chaos nor, aparently, the Emperor exist."

Bethany's mouth dropped open, only to snap shut a moment later, her eyes darting to the floor as her mind raced to process this _highly_ unexpected turn of events. Marthas sat silently, allowing her to work this out on her own.

A minute or two later, she looked back at him. "You are certain of this?" She asked.

He nodded affirmative. She let out a breath, and nodded as well.

"Well, what are you planning to do now?" She said, voice hardened to her usual no-nonsense tone.

Marthas smirked approvingly at her quick acceptance of the facts. "Well, one good thing about this is that Humanity still exists in this reality. However, there are some...differences that have caused me to take some rather... _unorthodox_ measures."

Bethany sighed. "I assume I'm not going to like this?" She said with resignation, already anticipating a great deal of heresy.

Marthas chuckled. "Well…"

…

Ten minutes later, Marthas finished his recount of the events of the last twelve hours or so, as well as outlining his current plans (which, as usual, would be subject to change as events progressed).

Bethany's head was in her hands, and she let out a sigh of annoyance and mild anger.

"You realize that what you've done, and what you're planning, breaks just about every law the Imperium has ever established, right? And how monumental a task that is to accomplish?" She said, not raising her head as she spoke.

"In case you forgot, we aren't _in_ the Imperium anymore, Interrogator." Marthas said dryly. "We are in a new place entirely. The laws of the Imperium don't apply unless we want them to. You and I are the highest ranking individuals in this fleet; and I plan to do whatever it takes to both survive in this new reality, and defend this humanity from the xeno threats it faces."

"I suppose those are noble goals." She said begrudgingly. "Let us hope the Emperor is understanding of the extraneous circumstances."

Marthas chuckled. "I'm not sure why you're so surprised. You knew I wasn't the most 'puritan' Inquisitor when I offered you this job."

"Master, there is a very large difference between the actions of a radical inquisitor and what you've proposed." She said, raising her head at last. "In any case, this discussion isn't helping anything. I assume now we head to the hangar and take the thunderhawk over to the _Guardian_?"

"Yes." Marthas said, standing. "Grab your weapons and head to the hangar. I'll meet you there shortly. I have one last thing to take care of."

"Very well. I'll see you shortly." Bethany said, standing as well and making the sign of the Aquila before striding from the room to retrieve her armaments.

Marthas watched her walk down the hall and out of sight. He then turned to the next room over-the one containing their eldar-provided _guest_ -and hit the control, the door sliding open quietly as he entered the room.

The young woman was still unconscious in her bed, a display beside the bed blinking as it monitored her vital signs. He approached the bed, hands clasped behind his back, and looked over this unexpected visitor.

She was attractive; that was obvious. Her hair was deep black and worn short, the strands framing an ovular face with an upturned nose and full lips. Her body was that of a soldier born; he could see the defined muscles on her exposed arm, and it didn't look like she had a hint of flab anywhere on her body.

The injuries were what caught the eye though, still red and raw from their recent treatment. The arm was nothing surprising: amputated just above the left elbow, the stump still a mess of fresh scar tissue. The eye injury was interesting though; the round that caused the damage had entered the eye socket at a severe angle, completely destroying the eye and blasting a chunk out of her skull, but leaving the ocular nerve almost undamaged and brain completely unscathed.

A miracle shot. Perhaps that was what had made this solder worth the Farseer's time.

 _Well, one way to find out for sure._ Marthas thought, reaching out to lay his palm gently upon the woman's forehead as his eyes glowed indigo and he slowly pushed his way into her slumbering mind.

Marthas soon found himself among her memories, images and sensations flitting past as he experienced this woman's history.

No, _Ashley Williams's_ history. That was who she was.

He saw her childhood, growing up on a beautiful planet, a mixture of gleaming cities and wide, empty plains. He saw her family, her father and mother and sisters; saw her learn of her heritage, as the descendant of the first human general to fight-and subsequently surrender to-an alien foe.

He saw how this legacy drove her, to prove herself, to fight and show that her family was worth something to humanity despite what her grandfather had had to do. He saw her join the military, crawling through the ranks and not doing all that much of note despite being an impeccable soldier.

That is, until Eden Prime.

His incorporeal form jerked as he saw the massive (relatively speaking) starship descend from the clouds, like a giant metal squid belched from the void. _Sovereign,_ the memories identified it. And what is more, he realized he _recognized_ it, from the image of a besieged Terra back in the 41st millennium, before the rift, before even the battle.

As the memories progressed, he was shocked again as he saw the woman from that same vision, the one with the bright red hair, arrive to help Ashley fight the abominable machines that the squid-ship deployed to slaughter the inhabitants of the colony.

 _Shepard. Commander Jane Shepard._ The memories identified her.

Orphan. Survivor. War Hero. Specter.

Then things passed in rapid fashion. Battles, missions, talks, laughter, tears, love, sadness. Of the Rachni and the Thorian, her burgeoning friendships with the xenos members of the crew, a blooming romance with the one of her human comrades, and the revelations of the ancient, mysterious machinations of the Reapers and their puppet, Saren.

And at last the valiant sacrifice she made of Virmire..or would have, if not for Eldar meddling.

Marthas retracted himself from Ashley's mind in a rush, gasping as he returned to his physical body fully.

He looked again at the peaceful face of this woman who had unknowingly revealed so much, thrown a dozen wrenches in his plans, and given him so many questions all at once.

Marthas shook his head, leaving the room with a single backwards glance. He informed Sabe that he wanted that woman to be kept unconscious until he returned, then left the medbay and made for the hangar, pausing only briefly to make a request/order of Techpriest Cerci that was eagerly accepted.

Things had been thrown into flux, but he still had an objective to accomplish. One that's deadline was fast approaching.

Marthas started walking a bit faster.

 _Regardless of this...complication._ He thought as he rounded a bend and saw the doors to the hangar ahead. _My task remains the same. Protect humanity, no matter the cost._

…

 _Onboard the SSV_ Normandy _, approaching orbit of the prothean planet Ilos._

Jane felt incredibly relaxed as she rose from sleep, her eyes opening lazily to the bare ceiling of her cabin. For the first time in months, she felt completely at ease, as though all her worries and fears had been drained away, leaving a wonderful feeling of empty peace in her chest.

For a few minutes she simply laid there, basking in the feeling, before turning her head to the source of this wonderful calm.

Liara lay beside her, head on her shoulder and breathing soft as she slept. Jane's face split into a joyous grin as she once again marveled that this wonderful person had found her way into her life, and had by some miracle felt the same as her.

Liara shifted then, eyelids fluttering as she roused from her sleep, her gaze unfocused for a moment before looking into Jane's own, and Liara smiled as well at the look of contentment and love her partner had.

"Well...that was…nice." Jane said a little haltingly, feeling a tad awkward as the full extent of their activities started catching up to her.

Liara chuckled. "Yes. Very nice." She said, snuggling a little closer to Shepard.

Jane let herself enjoy the feeling for a moment longer, then sat up. "Come on, we should get up; we're probably close to Ilos by now, and it would be a tad embarrassing to get caught with our pants down right before the final mission."

Liara groaned annoyedly, but followed suit. The two quickly got dressed and were just finishing up when Joker's voice came over the intercom. "Heads up everyone, we're about fifteen minutes out from Ilos. Finish whatever you're doing and get to your stations. This is gonna be one hell of a mission."

"Perfect timing." Liara said, stepping towards the door.

However Jane didn't let her get far, grabbing her arm and pulling her back into a passionate kiss. Liara let out a small _eep_ at the sudden action, but quickly returned the kiss with as much vigor as the human.

After a few moments of eternity they pulled apart. "I love you, Liara." Jane said, cupping the asari's cheek tenderly.

Liara covered Jane's hand in her own. "I love you to, Jane." She said, leaning forward and pecking her on the lips. "Come on, we have to get ready."

Jane nodded and the two walked out of Shepard's room with hands intertwined, only to see that rest of the ground team were gathered around the mess table, Garrus, Tali, and Kaidan at the table just finishing off some breakfast while Wrex was leaning against the wall gnawing on what appeared to be the leg bone of some unfortunate creature.

The trio looked over as the door opened, and both groups froze for a moment. Then Wrex broke out into a smug grin and looked at Kaidan. "I was right. Pay up, Alenko." He rumbled, sticking an open hand towards the human sentinel.

Kaidan grumbled something as he reached into his pocket before pulling out a credit chit and slapping it into Wrex's hand. Jane also saw Tali discreetly slip a chit to Garrus, who shot the Quarian a cocky smile and received a light punch for the effort.

Liara felt her cheeks flush and Jane just stared at them. "You had a betting pool going on us getting together?" She said with disbelief.

"Yup." Wrex said, pushing off the wall and turning to lumber towards the stairs.

"And not just us. I'm going to have to go see Adams and Joker about this too, though Pressly should be pleasantly surprised." Garrus said as he stood himself, Tali and Kaidan following soon after.

"Come on Shepard, Saren's not going to sit around forever." The Turian called back over his shoulder.

Shepard stood there for another moment, processing the surrealism of that discussion, before turning to a violently blushing Liara.

The asari gave her a helpless shrug, and Jane had to chuckle at the absurdity of it. "God damn it." She muttered, a small smile on her lips as the new couple followed their companions towards the cockpit.

…

 _Main Guest Chambers, Aboard the Sword-Class Frigate_ Guardian of Faith, _heading towards Batarian rendezvous_.

Marthas paused at the door to the chamber, looking back at his apprentice with his hand on the control. "Bethany, behave yourself in there. I understand your hesitancy with these xenos, but we do have need of them, so I'd appreciate if you could avoid starting any confrontations."

Bethany huffed but nodded. "Very well, master."

Satisfied, Marthas pressed the switch and the door slid open, revealing an elaborate but still functional room. The main feature was the large rectangular table in the center that had a built-in holoprojector, and was surrounded by more than a dozen chairs.

As the _Guardian_ was the vessel Marthas often used to make first contact with other Imperial factions when he was working an investigation, this room usually paid host to dignitaries or aids of high-ranking Lords and Generals of the Imperium of man, not to mention said Lords and Generals themselves.

It would serve a similar purpose today, but with a drastically different audience.

The four mercenaries were gathered around the far end of the table talking and turned when he walked in, subconsciously adopting defensive body language.

"Ah, so the great inquisitor finally decides to grace us with his presence. Do you have a thing about making people wait for you? Because this is getting annoying." The human said, in his not-quite-valhallan accent.

Marthas could literally _feel_ the distaste emanating from his apprentice, but she didn't outwardly react to the display of disrespect. Marthas himself just smiled coldly at the man, holding eye contact until he eventually looked away.

Satisfied that Nikolas was suitably cowed, Marthas looked to the aliens briefly, then gestured at the chairs.

"Sit." he said, in a tone that brokered no argument.

They did so, and he took a place at the other end of the table, with Bethany standing behind and to the right of him.

There was silence for a few moments, and Priora decided to be the one to break it.

"Alright look Devinir…"

"Inquisitor." He interrupted.

"What?"

"Address me as _Inquisitor_. You have not earned the right to move beyond titles, asari."

She narrowed her eyes but continued. "Look _Inquisitor_ , we're appreciative of you saving our asses from the blue suns, and I can understand using me to get an audience with my mother for that intel on the Batarians, but from what I can see we don't have anything left to offer you. You've gotten all the intelligence you're going to with that meld-thing you did…"

The unfamiliar woman glared at Marthas. "Really? You just jumped strait to telepathy? Not even an _attempt_ at regular interrogation?"

Marthas gave her a warning look and the woman fell silent. He looked back at Priora and she took that as a signal to continue.

"To sum it up, we can't see any further use we serve to you. So why are we still here? You could have easily killed us by now, or dropped us off somewhere if you were feeling generous. What more do you want from us?" She finished, her tone a tad more desperate than she would have liked.

Marthas regarded them for a moment. Then he spoke. "Simple. I want to offer you a job."

That was most certainly _not_ what the mercenaries had been expecting to hear.

"What?" Oceno stammered. "Why the hell would you want to hire us?"

"Indeed, that doesn't make much sense." Veris said, eyes shrewdly examining the human at the far end of the table. "You have what looks like a personal army and a fleet of dreadnoughts, not to mention those massive black-armored soldiers."

"What the fuck would you need us for?" Nikolas said suspiciously.

Marthas nodded. "You are correct. I have what is probably one of the most impressive and powerful examples of military might in the known galaxy at my command right now, and plan to turn it against the foes of mankind. However," he paused, glancing back at his companion. "We won't be able to do so for very long if we run out of food to feed my men or fuel to move my ships."

The four mercs looked at him with confusion, and Marthas spread his hands palm-up on the table. "We have no logistical capabilities whatsoever. Beyond the supplies on this fleet, I own nothing in the galaxy. In a year, two at the most, this fleet would be useless and it's crew would be starving."

Nikolas scoffed. "Bullshit. There's no way in hell you could have amassed this kind of arsenal without _substantial_ backing from either the Alliance or a half-dozen multi-billionaires. The Ezo cost _alone_ to run that monster you had us on before would be astronomical! Not to mention the raw materials to build those six ships." The engineer said.

Both Veris and Oceno seemed to share this sentiment, nodding in agreement

However, Priora was staring at the table with furrowed brows, thinking back to the conversation she had earlier with Marthas, and something he'd said that at the time she hadn't really understood.

" _You realize you just said you have a fleet of dreadnoughts, as well as a...a super dreadnought like it was the most common thing in the universe, right?" She'd said._

 _He glanced at her. "Where I'm from, it is."_

And then it clicked.

"You aren't from anywhere in the relay network, are you?" She asked suddenly, eyes snapping up to meet the Inquisitor's piercing gaze.

There was silence as her companions looked at her like she was crazy, but Marthas' mouth slowly twisted into a smug, knowing smirk.

"Correct, Miss T'loak." He said, drawing the incredulous stares of the other three.

"Wha...but you're human! Where would you come from if not from earth?" Oceno said.

"Still not sure the big ones are human…" Veris said under his breath.

Nikolas opened his mouth to launch into his own tirade, but Marthas raised hand for silence.

"To answer your question, batarian, we _did_ come from earth, long long ago. Just not _this_ earth."

"And what the fuck does that mean? You expect us to believe you're from some alternate reality or some Дерьмо?" Nikolas burst out, standing from his chair.

Bethany rolled her eyes internally at the display, but Marthas responded. "In fact, that is exactly where we're from. The year 40,984 of an alternate reality, to be exact."

Again, silence from the mercenaries as they looked at the inquisitor, trying to gauge if he was being serious.

"I can assure you, I am being truthful. An...event involving an act of spite by an enemy of mine caused my fleet to be tossed both both thousands of years back in time and through the walls of reality into your own."

"...that would explain the advanced technology…" Veris said hesitantly, still working through the disbelief at the claim but his analytical mind already connecting different facts with this new information.

"And how no-one's ever heard of these ships before. I can guarantee that the Hegemony would find out about it if they'd been built anywhere in known space, not even mentioning the Union or the Republics." Oceno said, her eyes closing as she rubbed two fingers over the cartilaginous ridge that ran up the middle of her face. "Still doesn't make it less insane, though."

Nikolas grunted. "Well...I suppose that does explain away most of the issues I'd been having with these blasted ships."

Priora spoke up again, having been silent for this exchange. "That still doesn't explain why you'd want to hire us, or what for."

Before Marthas could respond, the vox-speaker set above the door let out an activation bleep, and the voice of Captain Yerral came through.

"Attention all hands, gelar fields have been raised and we are ready to go. Brace for warp transition. We will be breaking through in 3...2...1…"

The ship rumbled faintly, the two psykers flinching as they were immersed once more in the sea of souls. The natives, however, felt a strange crawling sensation cover across their bodies and a strange scratching at the backs of their minds that shortly faded.

"What was that?" Oceno asked, shuddering as the last of the crawling seemed to slither off her scalp.

"We've entered the Warp and are headed for a meet-up with some Hegemony vessels." Marthas said dismissively, continuing before the mercs could follow up on the initial question. "Now, as to your questions asari, as you can imagine I am more than a little...perturbed as to the current situation. I have very little to work with and next to no information as to how basically anything works in this galaxy. However, I do know three very important things." He said, holding up three fingers.

"One, that the largest current threat to humanity is the Batarian Hegemony, and as such that is my primary target." Marthas didn't say anything about the visions of mechanical squids falling upon earth; he didn't have nearly enough information on these creatures to speak on them yet.

"Two," he continued, "that I cannot complete this objective if my fleet runs out of supplies, which it will eventually do despite our above-average supply situation compared to other Imperial fleets."

"And lastly, that I cannot be overly obvious in my aplication of our more advanced technologies, lest the empires of the galaxy band together to take such technology from me. The Systems Alliance included."

"And after examining your memories and some light reading on the extranet, I believe that I have a solution, or at least a partial solution, to both the issue of logistics and anonymity."

He looked each of the natives in the eyes, and they saw the calculating gleam in his emerald orbs. "I'm going to create a mercenary company of my own, to both gain a source of income and provide a front through which to oppose the Hegemony. And I want to hire you four to help md start and run it."

Of all the things the four mercenaries had expected him to say, _that_ was about the last possibility they would have ever considered.

Bethany grunted at the dumbfounded look on the faces of the aliens. "That was about my reaction when he told me." She said, receiving a glare from her master for the trouble.

…

 _Bridge of batarian cruiser_ Final Judgment.

"Captain, we've arrived at the rendezvous point. No sign of the _Fangs of Hashak_ or the _Graceful Hiran_ so far." The navigator said, turning in his chair to look back at the captain.

"Grrr." Captain Harrath growled in annoyance. "They're late. Bring us into orbit and hold position." He barked, and the bridge crew hurried to comply, Farrath's infamous temper spurring them to swift action.

 _Pillars damn those lazy shraks!_ Harrath thought angrily as he gripped the edge of his command display tightly. _If I'm late because those bastards couldn't keep to the schedule…_

His thoughts were interrupted by the sensor officer. "Captain, just picked up a pair of ftl signatures at the edge of the system. Holding for identification…ID ping confirmed, it's the Hashak and the Hiran."

 _About damn time._ Farrath thought. "Hail them. I want to know what took so damn long."

The comms officer nodded, and a few moments later the main viewscreen changed from an image of the gas giant they were moving towards to a split view of the bridges of the approaching frigates and their respective Captains.

Pralo Praddnek, the captain of the _Graceful Hiran_ , was on the left screen. She was relatively young, with a thin face and slightly yellowish skin, but she had swiftly shown an insatiable drive to advance through the ranks, attaining the rank of Captain in a little more than three years, an unprecedented speed in the notoriously glacial political world of the Hegemony Navy. Harrath had worked with her twice before, and while he could grudgingly admit she had a good mind for tactics and was vicious on the attack, he also thought her rash and almost hyperactive in her decision making.

On the right screen was Captain Dresolas Jriccus of the _Fangs of Hashak_ , and he was Pralo's opposite in almost every way. He was a grizzled old veteran with dark brown skin and a missing eye he received courtesy of an Alliance combat knife. Unlike his counterpart, he was slow and methodical in his actions, always thinking a half-dozen steps ahead of his opponent and almost fanatically loyal to the ideals of the Hegemony. Harrath liked him more than Pralo, having worked with him on several occasions, but the man could still be stubborn and frustratingly sluggish at times.

"Captains." He said gruffly. "Thank you for finally deigning to join us here. A good half hour behind schedule."

Pralo rolled her eyes (which means a bit more among Batarians, considering they have four of them). "Blame him. I could have been at the rendezvous over an hour ago if he'd just loosened up on his fraking bookkeeping and not agonized over every scrap of loot we've picked up out here."

"Well someone has to make sure that these goods get to market, and don't just find there way into your pockets, girl." Dresolas growled, his three good eyes narrowing.

Farrath stepped in before things could escalate any further. "Captains, whatever spat you're having can wait until you get your cargo onboard and we get your supplies over to you. Once I'm out of system, do whatever the fuck you want, but until then I am your superior officer. And I'm already almost an hour behind schedule now. So get your asses over here and let's get this over with."

"Of course, Captain." Dresolas said, chastised. Pralo just sniffed and nodded before Farrath cut the feed.

The two frigates made a jump to ftl shortly after, and emerged ten minutes later around two hundred thousand km away from his ship, their sublight engines flaring as they made their way towards the cruiser.

Just as the frigates were closing to under a thousand kilometers, the sensor officer spoke up. "Um, Captain, I'm detecting some kind of anomaly around fifty thousand kilometers out, 283 by 35." He said with a slight stammer in his voice.

Farrath's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, _anomaly_?" He asked.

"Sir, I...I can't really describe it. I'm getting readings here that shouldn't be physically possible of occurring."

Farrath paused for a second. "Bring it on screen!" He barked.

The screen shifted once again, and the bridge crew of the batarian cruiser _Gaze of Khar'shan_ beheld a rip in the very fabric of reality.

The tear writhed in the blackness of space, predominantly violet in color but also every other color that has ever existed or will ever exist. It round, then square, then triangular, then all three and none at the same time. As the aliens looked into the realm of souls, many began to feel a strange tugging sensation, and felt/heard whispers and scratches in the back of their minds.

Then a black shape, began to emerge from the rift, eventually resolving itself into an ornate but brutal looking dreadnought-sized ship with obvious weapons batteries mounted on her upper hull.

The rift snapped shut behind this ship, and the crew was pulled back into reality by the Captain's grating voice.

"Raise shields now and begin evasive maneuvers! Order the frigates to break off and make the jump to ftl, we are NOT going to try and take on a dreadnaught today!" Farrath yelled.

The crew had just begun to enact his order when the turrets of the strange ship turned slightly and began to glow.

"What the...BRACE FOR IMPACT!" Farrath yelled.

The cannons fired, blasts of blue-white energy spearing from the weapons towards the batarian ships. Incredibly though, the lances of light shot between the maneuvering vessels, disappearing into the surface of the gas giant behind them.

"What the hell was that?!" One of the officers cried out.

Farrath was about to reprimand the man but was interrupted by the sensors officer.

"Caprain! Two small ships just broke off from the dreadnought and are on a course towards the frigates. One of them matches the signature of one of our old _Hellican_ class raiders, but the other is an unknown."

"Uh, sir? The ship seems to be trying to contact us. It's also sending out a looping message out to the frigates, warning them that if they attempt to destroy the smaller contacts they will be blasted into oblivion. Orders?" The communications officer said.

Farrath hesitated for a moment. "Bring it up." He said cautiously.

The screen shifted to a view of what could only be assumed to be the bridge of the enemy dreadnought. Little could be seen beyond the figure that took up most of the screen, sitting in a silver chair.

He was human ( _of course it'd be a fucking human_ ), relatively young looking, wearing an unfamiliar uniform and with a mop of shaggy yellowish hair on his head.

"What is the meaning if this, human?!" Farrath growled angrily. "When theWhen my government hears about this, the Alliance…"

"We are not acting on the orders of anyone in the _Alliance,_ xeno." The human on the other end interrupted. This both surprised and worried the Batarian, he didn't know anyone in this sector of space had gotten their hands on a dreadnought-weight ship, and the fact that this human wasn't alliance meant this had a far greater chance of turning violent.

"And before you continue, I did not contact you to exchange words. This connection just gives us a better chance of a successful insertion." He looked to someone offscreen. "Techpriest, is it ready?" There was a pause. "Then initiate."

There was a pause, and the bridge of the batarian ship suddenly filled with the smell of ozone.

And with an crash of thunder and a flash of light, a massive shape appeared behind Farrath.

It was truly huge, at least ten feet tall, so large that it's hunched back nearly scraped the ceiling. The humanoid wore primarily black armor, with a gleaming silver left arm and a yellow right shoulderpad with some kind of canine on emblem in black on it. In its right hand was a massive firearm, a twin-barreled monstrosity with a strange attachment on the underside. In its left hand was a single-bladed axe with a blade that seemed to be made from chiseled ice, and had a small cloud of mist wafting off it.

The things glowing red eyes surveyed the bridge crew before going to the screen, still showing the human captain.

"Please take care, Brother-Sergeant; Lord Marthas wants the Captain alive." He said conversationally.

"Quid horum princeps?" The thing said in a growling voice.  
"The one in front of you, Sergeant."

The thing nodded its receded, armored face and then lashed out with the side of its axe far faster than a being its size had any right to move. The flat of the blade smashed into Farrath's chest, sending a blast of cold through his body as the flew across the room and cracked against the wall, a small trail of blood left on the bulkhead as he slid down, darkness clouding his vision as the enemy raised its weapon.

…

Sergeant Drak Lothbrok ignored the panicked yells of the xeno command staff as he eliminated their commander, the auto-targeters in his Terminator armor already plotting a firing solution even before he raised his custom storm-bolter. His first target managed to do little more than yelp before he pulled the trigger, a hail of mass-reactive shells roaring form the barrels of his weapon to blast the pitiful alien into oblivion.

The remaining xenos panicked then, attempting to run for the door to the room (which was behind him) or hiding behind their consoles in the vain hope that it would protect them. One of the aliens drew a weapon and fired at the veteran marine, but the round barely scratched the paint on his helmet, and the offending xeno was quickly blasted apart by a hail of shells before he half-turned and cleaved a fleeing batarian in two at the waist with his frost axe.

In moments, the bridge of the vessel was cleared of targets, leaving it a blood-splattered wreckage of sparking consoles, cratered floors, and scattered body parts.

On the screen, captain Yerral nodded in approval. "Good job Sergeant. Now, if you can place the beacon we'll send the rest of your squad over."

The Space Wolf grunted, sliding his axe into a loop on his waist and reaching for a cylindrical object at his hip. He activated the teleport homer and dropped it on the floor, lumbering backwards to clear space for his comrades.

With a crack and a flash of light, the rest of his squad arrived, standing in a loose circle around a techpriest and a trio of rather shaken-looking stormtroopers.

"Never gonna get used to that…" one of them mumbled, shivering off the aftereffects of the teleport.

"Sergeant, squad is ready to begin cleansing this vessel." Came the strong, monotone voice of Kerill Merios, the Minotaur lowering his power spear and storm shield from their defensive position as he registered a lack of targets.

"Indeed. We have been idle for far too long. My claws thirst for battle, though this seems like it will be more of a slaughter." Hissed Yoric Seretas, the Carcharodons' lightning clars crackling as he surveyed the surrounding carnage.

The other members of the squad, Asmond Peritus of the Dark Angels and Fredrick Verol of the Crimson Fists, remained quiet; turning slowly to face their leader. Lothbrok looked to the mortals who had come over with the terminators. "Hold this position and secure the prisoner." He rumbled sternly, gesturing at the unconscious batatian.

"Yes my lord!" The troopers barked, the techpriest ignoring them all as he curiously began to examine both the fallen aliens and the technology of the bridge.

Drak nodded at the mortal soldiers. "The Emperor protects. Squad, move out."

The Wolf turned to the door, awkwardly ducking down to fit through the smaller opening, the other four massive shapes following suit in single file.

"We have our orders, brothers. Cleanse the vessel, leave no xeno alive." Drak said over the squad-vox.

"Yes brother-sergeant." Came the instant reply, as the Terminators reached a crossroad and began to spread out, the distant sounds of footsteps signaling approaching foes.

"For the Lion." Said Asmond, his assault cannon whirring as it spun up before unleashing a hail of metal death into a squad of soldiers that rounded a corner ahead of him, ripping them to shreds.

"For the Emperor." Said Fredrik, his chainfist purring to life as he raised his hand to start carving through a locked door, storm-bolter ready.

"For Humanity." Said Drak, as a door hissed open in front of him to reveal a dozen terrified batarian crewmen cowering in the corner. "Suffer not the Alien to live." Without a moment's hesitation, he raised his bolter and triggered the underslung Helfrost attachment, firing a blast of energy torn from the depths of Fenrisian winter onto the aliens, freezing them solid in seconds.

"Room clear." He reported, sounds of battle and the death of aliens resounded through the cruiser as the terminators slowly, methodically made their way towards the engines.

"Targets engaged." Reported Merios, advancing steadily behind a raised storm-shield at an increasingly-terrified group of Batarian marines. Eventually he was close enough to trigger his secret weapon, pressing a trigger on the haft of his spear and loosing a gout of fire from the inbuilt hand-flamer that washed over the aliens, startling them and causing them to thrash about trying to douse the flames.

Merios didn't give them the chance, closing the final distance rapidly and running one through with his spear, smashing a second into the wall with his shield and causing a loud _crunch_ to reverberate through the hall. The third was beheaded by a swipe of his spear, and the last (which had fallen to the ground) was crushed beneath his massive weight as he idly stepped onto the alien's chest, sending a splatter of gore across the surrounding walls.

"Targets neutralized. Advancing." He rumbled, stomping off down the corridor.

"Who's next?" Seratas hissed, standing among a circle of shredded Batarians in the ship's mess hall, his claws crackling with energy as they burned off the blood that splattered them.

A bolt of blue energy shot out from the far door, the strange projectile catching the Space Shark in the shoulder and, incredibly, causing him to take a step backwards. A batarian vanguard, body sheathed in an angry blue aura, strode through the door with rage in his eyes, hands empty of weapons as he challenged the massive Astartes.

"Ah, a challenge at last, perhaps." Seratas snarled. The xeno yelled, thrusting his hands forward and rocketing towards the terminator. But this time, Seratas was prepared, and braced himself against the impact, and the biotic charge bounced off the reinforced wall of Ceramite before it.

The batarian stumbled, off balance, and quickly found himself speared on the end of Seratas' claws, blood spurting from his mouth as his organs were shredded by the massive pieces of metal that had invaded his body.

The Carcharodon grunted, disappointed with the pathetic display, and hurled the dead xeno against a wall, where his body splattered like a balloon.

"Seratas advancing." he spat into the vox, stomping out of the room in search of a better fight.

And so, in a slow, methodical push, the five terminators walked from one end of the cruiser to the other, clearing an entire deck of hostiles with bloody efficiency before grouping up at a large elevator at the rear of the ship.

Drak stepped on board, the lift creaking in protest at his immense weight.

"Well brothers." He said as Fredrik hit the command to send the elevator down. "One deck down, two to go."

 _ **A/N:** Hello again, lovely readers. Thank you for returning to my story. We've been introduced to the vaguely-referenced Squad Lothbrok, and the Terminators are well on their way to clearing the Batarian ships. Marthas has revealed some of his plans, and the pieces are falling into place as events in the wider galaxy press on relatively unchanged. Let's see where things take us, shall we?_

 _Also, the winner of last chapters 'Guess that Weapon' contest goes to Miraneum, who correctly identified the weapon as a Chainglaive, though his guess as to it's origin was incorrect._

 _That concludes this author's note,_ _so as always, Review, Follow &Fave if you're new, and as always,_

Imperator senatus et populi Romani Dinosaurs!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

" _I don't care HOW much you're offering us, asari. Until you can_ _ **guarantee**_ _me that there are no Deathwatch on that planet, I'm not taking my crew anywhere near it! You want your family flag back so badly? Go fucking get it yourself!"_

 _-Battlemaster Gatatog Krugg, leader of the Krogan mercenary outfit_ "The Hammers of Vaul" _._

" _My Armor is_ _ **Contempt**_ _._

 _My Shield is_ _ **Disgust**_ _._

 _My Sword is_ _ **Hatred**_ _._

 _In the Emperor's name,_

 _ **Let None Survive**_ _."_

 _-War-Oath of the Adeptus Astartes._

…

 _Thunderhawk Gunship_ Hammer of Judgment, _on course to BHMV_ Fangs of Hashak _._

"We are approaching the Xeno ship, my lord, and should connect in a minute or so."

Sergeant Osiris nodded at the pilot's report, standing behind the pilot and copilot's seats in the cockpit of the thunderhawk. "What is the status of the other boarding operations?"

"Kill Team Lothbrok has cleared the first deck of their target, and are pressing forwards. Lord Devinir's shuttle is closing on their target, but won't arrive for another few minutes."

"Very well pilot, seal up the cockpit behind me. There is a risk that combat could break the boarding seal." The Lamenter said, turning and striding from the room.

"Yes my Lord!" The human said as the hatch slid shut behind him. Osiris walked down the short ramp into the main holding area, where his brothers were awaiting the imminent battle, each performing their own pre-battle rituals, most of them for the moment unhealmed.

Librarian Persax was the nearest to the rear of the hold, sitting in one of the harnesses with his head bowed and his force-stave held in both hands, eyes closed as he quietly recited the Blood Raven's Litany of Control, his psychic hood glowing slightly as arcs of ethereal energy jumped from the dampening device to his scalp and back.

Brother Husun sat across from the psyker, his eyes closed and angular, yellowish-tan face calm as the former Company Champion meditated, his silver hair drawn up into a small topknot and a bushy mustache adorning his upper lip.

Brother Herus was next to Persax, performing some last-minute maintenance on his Combi-Melta. His reddish-brown hair was shorn close to his head, and his chiseled features were scrunched with concentration as he cleaned the inner workings of his weapon's firing mechanism.

Across from him, Brother Gorvax was performing some maintenance on his mechanical right hand. The bionics that replaced his right eye (and indeed, most of the right side of his head) whirring as it magnified, the flesh on the left side of his face (which was surprisingly rounded for an Astartes) a deep brown color, and devoid of any hair whatsoever.

Apothecary Augustus was in a similar position as the Librarian, head bowed and hands clasped in prayer, mouthing the words of his devotion silently.

Across from Theoverus was Brother Sar'al, his void-black skin lit by the flickering fire in a bowl that the Salamander had in his right hand, speaking the words of the Promethean Cult with the marine next to him; one of the three 'Specialists' that usually worked separately from the main squad, a Black Dragon named Zar Challax. Challax had adopted the ancient code of Vulkan after the old Nocturnian had taken the younger assault marine under his wing, seeing a conflict in him that echoed that of many a Salamander Neophyte faced once their skin began to darken and their eyes to glow.

The Dragon's face looked on the younger side, his skin greyish in color and marred by the mutations that had made the Dragons infamous among the Inquisition. Two growths of bone jutted from the Zar's cheekbones, sweeping up alongside his eyes, and from the his forehead four nubs of bone protruded, located in pairs roughly over his eyebrows, peeking out from under shaggy blond bangs. In addition, his vambraces were modified to accommodate the retractable bone-blades that marked him as a Dragon Claw, and served as his primary melee weapons.

Across from Challax was their other assault marine, and another specialist; Inax Sed'hra, a veteran of the secretive Voidstalkers chapter, and a master of stealth and terror who had accompanied the Inquisitor to the Xeno space station. He was sitting silently, his black eyes watching the two squadmates across from him as he sharpened one of the short flensing knives that he used in his grisly work of striking fear into the enemies of Man.

Lastly was their marksman specialist, Marcus Lanyx of the Raptors chapter. The son of Corax bore hints of the genetic appearance of his primarch, his skin pale and his hair dark, with a serious expression on his face as he nodded in greeting to the squad Sergeant. He had exchanged his Stalker bolter for a Deathwatch Shotgun, as the battle rifle would be of negligible use in the cramped confines of a starship.

Osiris banged a hand against the wall of the gunship, drawing all eyes to him.

"We approach the target. Helmets on. Contact in T-minus-fourty seconds."

The nine astartes swiftly donned their helms, air hissing as their power armor became a sealed environment. In moments, the individuals were gone, replaced by faceless warmachines that stood ready to kill and die in the Emperor's name.

Though Osiris didn't think there'd be much dying on the Imperial side today.

As was customary, the Sergeant was the last to done his helm, his Hud lighting up with as it connected, showing his vital signs and an ident fine for each member of the squad, alongside updates from the local noosphere. He blinked away most of the information, walking to the front of the troop compartment, hearing his squad stand as he passed.

He stopped before the airlock door, glancing at the red light beside it, signifying it was unsafe to open. Slowly, he unsheathed _Bloody Salvation_ , placing the tip of the ancient Chainsword on the floor of the hold and folding his hands over the pommel.

Then he spoke.

"In Darkness," he began.

"I shall Be Light." Finished Sar'al.  
"In times of Doubt," continued Persax

"I shall Keep Faith." Intoned Theoverus.  
"In throes of Rage," growled Zar.

"I shall hone My Craft." Whispered Husun.  
"In Vengeance," rumbled Herus.

"I shall have No Mercy." Hissed Sed'hra.  
"In the midst of Battle," said Lanyx.

"I shall have No Fear." Stated Gorvax.  
"And in the face of Death," Osiris spoke again, lifting his blade from the floor and taking grip, drawing his inferno pistol.

The hold filled with the sounds of purring motors, cracking energy and racking slides as weapons were primed.

" **I Shall Have No Remorse.** " The ten demigods of war said as one.

There was a clunking noise, and the light turned green. Airlock sealed.

"These xeno's are ignorant of the Emperor's fury. Let us Instruct them. Deathwatch; Breach and Cleanse."

…

Unlike the teleport strike on the _Final Judgement,_ the crew of the _Fangs of Hashak_ had been able to watch the enemy boarders approaching, and while Captain Pralo didn't want to test the conviction of the hostile dreadnought's promise of destruction, she was more than ready to fight tooth and nail for her ship, and the loot it contained.

So it was that the dozen marines which made up the ship's security detail took up defensive positions around the airlock which the enemy ship was approaching. The defense was overseen by a quartet of SIU operatives, who served as the ground-ops team and ensured that discipline and loyalty were maintained among the crew.

The batarians had unknowingly arranged themselves in a similar manner to the defenders of the Blue Suns raider several hours ago. There were three marines with shotguns waiting in cover closest to the door, the SIU Sentinel and Vanguard waiting with them to provide close-ranged biotic and tech support. The rest of the marines, armed with assault rifles and a pair of grenade launchers, were scattered back along the short hall which lead to the hold of the frigate, as well as the SIU engineer who had set up a sentry turret in the center of the hall. Lastly, the leader of the SIU team was kneeling behind several crates a decent distance from the open door of the hall, a M-98 Widow deployed and ready to obliterate whatever came through that door.

There was a clang and a hiss as something connected to the other side of the airlock, and hands tightened on weapons as the soldiers waited for the door to slide open.

They were caught off guard when the door exploded.

The blast rocked the ship, sending more than a few marines staggering. From the haze of smoke in the door erupted a hail of gunfire, massive rounds smashing into exposed batarians and blasting them from their feet with missing limbs and detonated chests.

The batarians returned fire, blind firing into the smote to try and suppress the attackers. At the screamed command of the engineer, the marines with grenade launchers fired into the smoke.

The grenades were halfway to their targets when two hair-thin beams of fire melted them out of the air.

The defenders were only shocked for a moment, as then an angry orange-yellow glow grew in the haze, and then an instant latter erupted into an inferno.

The fire rocketed through the door, twisting and growing in unnatural shapes. The operatives were able to dive clear but the three shotgunners were engulfed in an instant, their screams drowned out by the hellish crackling of the flames.

And striding through it, cobalt blue armor gleaming in the flickering fires, helmet lenses glowing with unearthly white light, came the Librarian, hand outstretched and wreathed in billowing flame that curled and moved as it flowed from his palm.

The SIU agents frantically backpedaled from the encroaching fire, the Sentinel operative frantically hurled a biotic throw at the advancing shape, causing it to falter in it's step. The other batarians intensified fire on the flame-wreathed giant, and then another shape appeared through the flames.

Brother Zar burst through the swirling inferno, a snarl on his lips and bone blades extended as he pounced on the sentinel, bearing him to the floor and punching two feet of adamantium-sheathed bone into his chest, slicing through the best hardsuit and tech armor and the Hegemony could provide like it was butter.

The Vanguard let out a shout of rage and blasted at the Black Dragon with his shotgun, the blast striking him in the side of the head and taking him off balance.

The Vanguard tried to seize the advantage, charging up for a Biotic Charge, but just as he triggered the attack the flat end of a chainsword smashed into his chest, throwing him against the wall with all the redirected energy of his charge.

The batarian looked up into the glowing barrel of the Sergeant's Inferno pistol, and then a beam of energy the with the condensed heat of a star hissed out of the weapon and immolated the xeno's head and lit his torso ablaze with the backwash of heat.

Zar rolled out of the line of fire, sending an almost imperceptible nod to his Sergeant before drawing his dual pistols and returning fire at the xenos riflemen who were hosing down the hall with rounds.

Raan, who was still standing in the center of his Warpfirestorm, waved his hand to corral his blaze in preparation to send if surging down the hall and end this fight.

However a loud, sharp Crack! Rang out, followed almost instantly be a spurt of blood from the Blood-Raven's neck-area as the sniper round pierced his weaker armored neck-area that was not protected by the raised gorget of the Mk. 8 armor most of the rest of the squad used, as Raan wore Aquila-patternarmor for easier mounting of his Psykic hood.

The Librarian staggered to the side, the fire dying as he pressed a hand against his neck. A warning rune flashed on Osiris' HUD, a diagnostic from Raan's suit indicating that his Jugular had been nicked by the round.

"Theoverus." He said over the squad-vox, stowing his pistol and sword in exchange for his bolter, sending volleys of suppressive fire down the hall.

The apothecary responded instantly, moving from his firing position at the door alongside Herus and being instantly replaced by Sar'al, the Son of Guilliman was at his comrade's side in a moment. He removed Raan's hand and saw the pebble-sized hole the round had left, blood sluggishly seeping out as his Larman's cells sought to stem the damage even moments after his injury.

Theo quickly inserted a small vial of bluish liquid into the injector of his Narthecium and stabbed the needle into the wound, eliciting a grunt of pain from the Librarian. The clotting agent worked almost instantly, the blood flow ceasing as the drugs sent Raan's augmented platelets into overdrive, while also putting him into a state of unconsciousness while the repairs were made.

"He is fine, Sergeant." Theo said, pulling the Librarian up against the wall before drawing his weapons again. "He should recover by the time we finish with these xenos."

Osiris nodded. "Good. Then let us finish this." And he blink-selected a set of runes in his display, designating targets for his men.

On cue, Gorvax stepped out into the room, frag-cannon leveled at the turret at the far end of the hall. The massive weapon sounded once, twice, thrice, and the solid slugs blasted the machine to pieces.

The Batarians, now down several men from the barrage of bolt-shells that had been hurled at them, began to fall back in a relatively controlled manner, the fire barely lifting as they pulled back. However, the Kill-Team had now gotten the full measure of this enemy, and were no longer limiting themselves.

There was a brief pause in the bolter fire as shot-selectors were flipped on several weapons, but in the meantime the pressure was not lifted as Marcus advanced, racking the slide on his shotgun and firing off a Wyrmsbeath shell, the volatile chemicals of the round igniting the instant they hit the air, producing a gout of flame that consumed one of the aliens and sent two others scrambling for safety. This was a vain effort, as Marcus racked and fired twice more in quick succession, the two xenopurge slugs punching fist-sized holes through the batarians.

Then with practiced ease, he slid to the side and cleared the firing lane as the bolter-armed members of the team opened fire with their newly-selected Dragonfire Bolts.

The Batarians hunkered down in the face of this new bombardment, but to their dismay found that these bolts exploded to release gouts of superheated gas that seared their armor and flesh in moments.

For most, their dismay lasted mere moments.

Under this barrage, Inax and Husun advanced on the last few survivors, Chainglaive and Power Sword cleaving through armor and flesh in brutally elegant strokes, slaughtering the last few defenders.

Husun withdrew his sword from the chest of the SIU engineer, letting her body slide down from where he had impaled it to the wall. "Sergeant, all hostiles eliminated." He said over the quiet sound of blood sizzling as it was boiled off by his blade's power field.

Osiris lowered his bolter's aim slightly. "Any sign of the sniper who hit Raan?"

"Negative." Inax murmured, revving the engine of his weapon to spin off some of the flesh and gore that coated the chainblade. "Likely fled once assault specialists closed in."

Osiris nodded. "Brother Theoverus, what is Raan's status?"

"I am fine, Sergeant." Grunted the Blood Raven, sitting up from his spot on the wall with a shake of his head. "The injury is healed. I am ready to serve."

"Right. Herus, seal the airlock. We split into two groups; one, headed by me, will head to the bridge and seize control. The other, led by Sar'al, will take the engine room."

He didn't bother to wait for confirmation of understanding; they knew the drill. "Gorvax, Marcus, Herus, Zar, with me. Raan, Theo, Inax, Sartak, with Sar'al. Strike swiftly, for the Emperor."

"For the Emperor." The squad echoed, and headed out.

…

The class of frigate that squad Osiris found themselves on was not very complicated, the main body being made up of the large cargo bay filled with shipping crates that was connected to the airlock. The engine room was to the rear of this bay, while the crew quarters, weapons control and the bridge were on the deck above.

As such Combat Squad Osiris found themselves in the unenviable position of having to use a small elevator to gain access to their target, which would almost certainly be sabotaged with explosives or turned into a killing box by the remaining defenders above.

However, one of his men quickly spoke up and offered a...unique solution to this problem.

…

Specialist Fahth was worried. And for an SIU fanatic like him, that was saying something.

These hostiles were unlike anything he'd ever dealt with before; they were insanely fast, extremely coordinated, and could take more punishment than a Krogan battlemaster. The only definite injury that his forces had inflicted on them was the throat-shot he made on that blue-armored...sorceror, for lack of a better description. And that wasn't even taking into account their weapons!

Both he and the Captain knew that this wasn't a fight that they could win, so here he was, with a few determined (but ultimately useless) mountain-caste weapons operators armed with pistols and shotguns that had no chance of piercing the hides of these monsters, trying to buy enough time for the captain to arm the self-destruct and purge the hard drives of all sensitive intelligence tying the ship's activities in the Terminus systems to the Hegemony, as per order 3461-9 of the Navy's _Privateers_ initiative.

His heavy pistol was leveled at the door of the elevators, the detonator for their jury rigged trap in his off hand.

Now they just had to wait for the enemy to call the elevator and…

"Did you hear that?" One of the crewmen suddenly said, looking over at the access hatch for one of the maintenance ducts.

"What?" Another asked, brandishing her shotgun.

"I thought I heard...scratching or something…" The man said, slowly walking towards hatch.

"Get back on the door, idiot!" Fahth snarled. "You're imagining things! Those ducts are far too small for something their size to get through!"

The operative's words were proven wrong almost immediately, as with a scream of tearing metal and a bestial roar, one of the giants exploded from the hatch in a blur, spearing the nearest crewman and lifting him off the ground with some kind of wrist-mounted blade before hurling the corpse at another batarian.

Screams rang out in concert with gunshots as the terrified xenos attempted to stop this monster.

It was a vain attempt.

10.39 seconds later, the elevator ground painfully to a halt, the metal groaning with the strain of lifting four tons worth of astartes, allowing the rest of combat squad Osiris to exit into the upper deck.

Brother Zar was waiting for them, surrounded by the dismembered corpses of the pitiful defenders, his body liberally coated in xeno blood, and massive sprays and splatters spread across the bulkheads.

Zar retracted his blades with a Snick. "Area Clear, Brother Sergeant." He said, his tone completely calm.

Osiris nodded at the young marine. "Well done brother."

"Excellent infiltration, Dragon." Marcus commented as well, the Raptor moving towards the locked door to the bridge.

Herus slapped the assault marine on his shoulder. "I honestly didn't think you'd make it through there, Challax."

Zar cocked his head, the astartes equivalent of a shrug. "Dragon Claws are expected to close the distance with our enemy as effectively as possible. In boarding scenarios, that's usually through some vent or other. You learn how to squeeze through."

"Regardless, we are not here for talk. We have an objective to complete." Osiris said, cutting off further conversation.

The five astartes stacked up alongside the sealed bridge door. Osiris snapped out orders quickly.

"Herus, breaching charge. Gorvax, scattershot. Marcus, Cryptclearers. Bolters set to Vengeance rounds. Watch your fire, we are to cause as little damage to the controls of the ship as possible."

Acknowledgment runes flashed on his Osiris' hud, and in a few moments rounds were shifted and Herus had a shaped charge mag-locked to the door, an activation rune popping up on Osiris' hud.

"Squad, execute." He said as he blinked on the rune.

The charge detonated, and the five superhumans moved into the room in a rush.

Osiris took in the situation in milliseconds.

 _Five targets, two armed, three unarmed. Captain in center-rear of room, just recovering from the blast, within CC distance, target to be taken alive. Other xenos designate extermination, attempt to minimize damage to technology._

As the thoughts flew through the Lamenter's mind, his eyes raced along with them, designating targets and orders with rapid movements and blinks, and within a half a second of seeing the bridge, every batarian officer was designated with target priority and identity of executioner.

Weapons snapped on target, superhuman muscle aided by the servos of their armor, and almost simultaneously they fired.

A blast of cryptclearer shards took the helmsman in the chest, blowing his organs out his back and sending the man flying into his controls. A bolt-pistol round took off the comms officer's right arm at the shoulder, a second shot from a second pistol silencing the man's screams by blasting his throat into oblivion. A burst from a combi-melta walked up the torso of the weapons officer, almost cutting him in half, while a single shot from the Sergeant's bolter popped the Navigator's head like a fruit. Gorvax did not fire, instead surging forward, seizing the Captain by the throat with his bionic hand and lifting her off the ground.

The Confessor observed the captain's terrified face for a moment, tilting his helmet ever so slightly, before he slammed her back onto the console with the exact amount of force required to render her unconscious, but not kill her.

"Clear, Brother Sergeant." Gorvax said.

"Well done brothers, but there may be more xeons yet. I will stay with the prisoner, you clear the deck."

"Yes sir!" The four marines said, turning and thumping off towards the crew-section of the ship.

Soon, the screaming began.

…

The pilot light on Sar'al's combi flamer flickered slightly as he slowly panned the rifle back and forth as he advanced through the cargo area towards the engine room. He could hear his brothers advancing as well, stomping through the haphazard corridors the poorly stacked crates made up.

He saw a flash of movement to his left, and his weapon twitched towards it before he recognized Theoverus' IFF on his hud, the apothecary giving him a small nod before falling in behind as his path joined Sar'al's.

The two went a few more steps before stopping again, their Lyman's ear catching on an irregularity in the environment. On instinct, the marines filtered out the ambient noise of the ship, and identified the anomaly as a very quiet tapping noise, irregular in speed but consistent in strength.

"You heard that?" Theoverus redundantly asked over the internal vox.

"Aye." "Sar'al responded, expanding to the rest of the squad. "Brothers, we may have hostiles. Myself and Augustus are moving to investigate, converge on our location."

Three confirmation runes flashed, and the two moved towards the source of the noise, a cargo container that was within visual distance of the door to the engine room.

As their heavy steps grew closer, the pair heard the noise stop, only to be replaced by the sounds of panicked, indistinct whispers and movement. Both marines had a similar thought, and moved to either side of the crates doors. They paused a moment, and with a nod pulled the crate open, leveling their bolters at the interior.

And were surprised when they saw, not cowering xeno crewmen, but the scared, disheveled faces of a dozen humans, including a few small children.

The group cowered behind two large, well-muscled humans (one male, one female) in what looked like military fatigues, as well as a blue-skinned female xeno which had taken a fighting stance.

Theo's weapon snapped to the alien, only Sar'al's raised hand staying his shot.

"Hold, brother." The Salamander said slowly, dropping his aim microscopically.

"Why? This alien could harm the civilians, we need to eliminate it!" Theoverus said hotly, his sights still squarely set on the alien's chest.

"If it wanted to do so, it would have by now. Besides, look at what it is doing; that is a defensive stance, and it is standing with what we can assume to be local soldiers of some kind. They likely expected their captors, or are fearful of us. They've never seen Astartes before, remember."

The apothecary hesitated for another moment, and Sar'al spoke again before the Son of Guliman made a mistake. "Stand _down_ , Brother-Apothecary."

The combat-medicae hesitated for another moment, then lowered his weapon slightly, just enough to take it off of the xeno.

"The Codex would not approve of this." He said, voice low.

Sar'al grunted. "Augustus, you're in the Deathwatch. The Codex stopped applying to your actions as soon as you took the black. And additionally, you are under the command of one of the most...unconventional Inquisitors that the Imperium has ever seen, _and_ we've found ourselves in the far-past. Get used to doing things differently."

Additional stomps of one-ton warriors heralded the rest of the squad's arrival, though Inax slipped over the top of the boxes silently to land beside Sar'al.

"False alarm, no hostiles, civilians. Continue to objective." He said over the squad-vox.

The others flashed affirmatives on his hud and moved off. Sar'al looked back at the humans, whose expressions had changed from scared to carefully hopeful and curious.

He activated both his exterior vox and the translator program that had been installed in his suit before they left. "We shall be back shortly, you will be safe here." He said, and began closing the door again.

"Wait!" A boy cried out, pausing the Marine's action. "Who are you?"

He looked at the child and tilted his head, smiling behind his helm. "We Adeptus Astartes, the Emperor's Angels of Death. We shall keep you safe, and punish your abductors." He said, staring menacingly at the alien woman until she looked away, cowed, and then closing the door, sealing them inside.

Sar'al quickly reunited with the rest of the squad, who had gathered around the locked door. He paused as Sergeant Osiris sent him a status report, and requested one from him, which he gave.

"The Sergeant has taken the bridge. This should be the last sight of Xeno resistance onboard. Librarian, if you would."

Raan nodded, and held out a hand against the locked door, his helmet lenses flashing with burning white light as he channeled immaterial flames into the door.

After a moment, the overloaded lock flashed from red to green, and slid open to admit the Astartes. Sar'al could not help but feel a tad disappointed; instead of a valiant last stand, the squad came across a half-dozen screaming, cowering xenos that were begging for their lives in their guttural tongue, the pitiful pleas translated to high gothic by their translators.

"Pathetic." Husun scoffed, igniting his power sword.

Sar'al nodded in agreement, and the Salamander encased the huddle of Xenos in the Emperor's burning vengeance, their screams of agony echoing through the hold until, one by one, a gunshot snuffed them out.

…

 _Classified Location, At the same time._

Somewhere in the galaxy, there was a room. The walls of this room were covered in screens, which projected an image of space, and centermost a large, uniquely colored star burned.

Inside this room was a man. This man was powerful, but his power was cloaked in shadows, for the most part a background element to the events of Galactic society, always pushing and twisting events as best he could to better humanity's lot on the Galactic stage.

He had a name, once, but it has been long lost by the necessities of his work. Now, he is simply...Illusive.

The Illusive man took another pull on his cigaret as he flipped through the pages of the latest report from Project _Daedalus_ ; yet more disappointment, as the director's results continued to fall far below his expectations.

He quickly tapped out a response, stressing that if a major gain was not made soon, that a change of management might be in order.

 _That should get Victoria moving._ He though, and was about to open another in his endless series of reports when a new message flagged with the highest priority appeared on his screen.

Intrigued, he tapped it open, and saw that it was from one of the agents he had stationed to watch Omega. The message itself contained a video file, as well as a marker indicating where the footage was taken; some old, rarely-used dock in the upper areas of the station.

The Illusive man opened the file, and saw a trio of Blue Suns mercenaries waiting before the dock with a larger group farther off at the end of the old area, a few vehicles haphazardly parked nearby.

The Illusive man grew a tad irritated as the video dragged on with no indication of what was so important. He was about to close it and send a disciplinary message back to the agent when the smoke clouds burst up around the far mercenaries.

His eyes widened at the sickly-looking sword that appeared on the arm of the batarian captain, and his jaw dropped when the two soldiers emerged from the airlock and speared the floating Suns with beams of light.

And when the giant strode from the smoke and ripped the last Sun in half with some kind of Chainsaw-Blade, his hand was already flying across a datapad, connecting him to one of the few people he'd trust with something this massive.

"Lawson, drop everything. I've got an assignment for you." The Illusive Man said, looking back to see an older human in a long, dark coat walked out onto the dock, the energy-weapon wielding soldiers moving to flank him and the giant nodding respectfully as he approached it.  
"And I think I have a target as well."

 _ **A/N:** Greetings and Salutations, good readers. Lovely to see you all again, in a figurative sense.  
_

 _So, another chapter of Astartes stomping on Batarian faces. Always good, and now I can say that you have been introduced to every Astartes in Marthas' service: 15 in total, and representing every loyalist legion. Up next, we see some slightly more balanced combat and deal with the last batarian ship, as well as the last bit of Shepard we'll see for quite a while; you're welcome all you who've complained about Shep's bits ;)_

 _Also, for those who may be wonering why I went with Femshep/Liara (like apparently every other author on here), I just like their relationship a lot more than any other Femshep pairing in the series save maybe Garus, and I wanted to have him and Tali together.  
_

 _And, before anyone asks, the Voidstalkers are a chapter of my own creation who's history may-or-may-not be expanded upon here.  
_

 _Lastly, I've noticed that I have a kind of excessive number of OC's in this story, would it be helpful to you all if I posted a Character index either here or as a separate story? I'll try to put a poll up on my profile, but if I can't get it working than just leave your opinion in a review if you care._

 _That concludes this author's note,_ _so as always, Review, Follow &Fave if you're new, and as always,_

Imperator senatus et populi Romani Dinosaurs!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

 _"_ _Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic."_

 _-Aurther C. Clark, British science fiction writer._

 _"_ _I can pulp your flesh and snap your bones in less than a second, and without so much as lifting a finger. What is the power of technology compared to that?"_

 _-Chief Librarian Val'cona of the Salamanders, in an argument with Forgemaster Argos._

 _"_ _Best advice I can give you? Follow orders, don't sass the Deathwatch, and if you see anyone's eyes glowing, make sure they aren't pissed at you."_

 _-Nikolas Petrov to a batch of newly recruited_ Aquillas.

…

 _Omega Station, two hour prior to the boarding of the_ Fangs of Hashak.

The space around Omega was always hectic, with dozens of ships both openly traveling and trying to hide zipping in and out of the thousands of minor and major docking areas of the station. It was all that the overworked, tired controllers scattered throughout the station could to to prevent collisions and conflicts over docking space on an hourly basis.

In all this confusion, it is understandable that the people of the station missed the arrival of a small ship the likes of which had never been seen before in the known galaxy as it slipped through a rip in reality to dock quietly with a small, abandoned repair dock on the upper, almost entirely abandoned section of the upper asteroid. The only beings that observed the lithe, brightly-colored beings that strode from that dock were Pyjacks and a few odd, lost Vorcha who soon enough found themselves missing heads or with blended organs.

As the last of the vermin fell, the dancers slipped into the darkness to begin for the coming performance.

…

 _Former Blue Suns Raider_ Malice, _en-route to the BMHV_ Graceful Hiran.

The _Malice_ was steadily closing in on the batarian frigate, the soldiers within the vessel preparing for the coming assault. However, for the four natives to this reality, there was something else on their minds, other than the fact that all of their weapons and equipment had been returned to them.

"So... what do you all think?" Oceno asked quietly, glancing at her companions as she fiddled with her omni-tool.

Veris looked up from his maintenance on his sniper rifle. "It's a solid offer, and we'd be making good money. Plus, there's little chance of any jobs we go on having...moral issues, but I'm fine with whatever you all decide to do."

Nikolas grunted. "We get to take the fight to those four-eyed _Trakhayetsya_." He glanced at Oceno. "No offence. I say we go for it, it's not like we have anything better to be doing."

Oceno waved off the Russian's apology and looked at Priora.

The asari avoided her gaze, choosing to instead look down at her returned Tempest, her mind running over the Inquisitor's rather...well, crazy offer.

There were more than a few pros to it. The pay would be great, to start with. They would start out the company with around a hundred fifty men; fifty 'stormtroopers' to form the core, and former 'guardsmen' filling out the rest of the roster, well more than most mercenary groups normally started with. Hell, she'd been at this for almost half a cycle and she still only had three other teammates.

They would also have complete control over recruiting (though all prospects would need to be vetted by Devinir prior to any advancement beyond a simple trooper), and the use of the ships that the Inquisitor had captured so far, including these Batarian vessels once they took control. And lastly, they would be given access to the Inquisitor's advanced tech when he deemed it necessary and advantageous to do so.

He even had a name picked out already; The Aquillas.

The cons were that neither she nor any of her crew would actually be _heading_ the organization, they were just senior staff; that role was going to be filled by an undisclosed someone Marthas trusted to 'keep you all in line,' and he himself would still be keeping an eye on what the company was doing.

Additionally, while he hadn't put any formal limits on the kinds of jobs they could take, he had _suggested_ that they try and remain as legitimate as possible, which she didn't really have any objection too, but that could hamper their income if legit jobs became scarce.

And who could forget the biggest stickler, that they'd have to be a front through which he could wage his war on the Batarian Hegemony, thus putting targets on all of their backs.

Priora's mind was churning as these various options rolled around, bouncing off one another as she weighed the variables, and kept coming back to one thing in spite of all the dangers this job could hold.

This could be a chance to make a real change to the galaxy for the better, in a way far beyond any childish dream she may have had before her mother snuffed those thoughts out.

And plus, she had little doubt that Devinir would kill all of them if they refused.

Priora nodded. "Alright, yeah. We'll take the job. Let's just hope this doesn't come back to bite us."

The other three nodded. At that moment, the door to the room slid open and the woman who took them captive almost a day ago now stuck her head in.

"Hey, we're almost to the target. Marthas wants you four at the airlock now." She said.

The four mercs stood up and locked their weapons into place, following the lithe woman through the ship until they came to the hall outside the airlock, some of the walls still spattered with blood. Waiting were fifteen of the Inquisitor's stormtroopers, still running through some last-minute weapon checks, as well as the Sword-wielding companion of their guide, the Inquisitor, and his angry female companion.

Marthas didn't even wait for them to get to him before he started handing out orders. "You three, wait here. You two, watch them." He said, pointing at Nikolas, Oceno and Veris before speaking to the Twins. "Interrogator, Asari, with me." he continued, turning and walking towards the door farther down the hall, the troopers parting before him.

Priora nodded to her people and followed the Inquisitor, Bethany a few steps behind her. Marthas stopped before the door, and the two women fell in beside him, Bethany stepping between the asari and the Inquisitor.

"So, asari, what is your answer?" Marthas asked, the older man looking over at the alien.

Priora swallowed her apprehension and replied. "We'll take the job."

Marthas smirked. "Excellent. Now all that there is to do is evaluate your combat skills."

Priora shot him a look. "I assumed that was why you brought us, but why bother? You've seen our memories, you know what we're capable of."

There was a clunk and the ship shifted as the airlock attached to the frigate. Behind her, several of the stormtroopers took up positions in cover along the wall, as did her squad. However, one trooper did not, and they were joined by the man and woman from the freighter. The man handed Bethany what looked like an old-fashioned riot shield, which the woman attached to her arm before drawing a pistol and crouching, hiding most of her body behind the shield, the stormtrooper taking a similar posture behind her with the barrel of his rifle going over her right shoulder.

The twins drew their weapons as well, Varsius standing behind Marthas while Tellara stood behind a mildly confused Priora.

"Well," Marthas said, drawing his pistol and checking the charge on the power cell, "I am of the opinion that it is better to trust what you have seen for yourself than what you see in the minds of strangers. Now, you are capable of projecting a biotic barrier in front of yourself, correct?"

"Um, yes…why?" Priora said hesitantly, not liking where this was going. "Shouldn't we be taking cover?"

"No, that would be rather counterproductive, seeing as we shall be acting as mobile cover to get the Twins into melee range. Sergeant! Open it up!" Marthas grinned savagely, his eye's glowing white as he raised a hand before him. "Let us show these xenos what the Emperor's finest are capable of."

Then the hologram on the door blinked green, and the door opened.

"Shit!" Priora yelped, throwing up a hasty biotic barrier as the half dozen batarian marines on the other side of the door opened fire. "Are you insane?" She yelled.

"Possibly. Now move up!" Marthas replied, his eyes blazing with indigo fire as he began walking forwards, the incoming bullets ricocheting off an invisible barrier. Bethany pushed forwards as well, the trooper behind her snapping of the occasional beam of red-orange light as he moved up behind the protection of the Interrogator's suppression shield.

"Fuck me." Priora hissed through clenched teeth, already starting to feel the strain of maintaining her barrier against so many rounds.

'Well, might as well just follow the plan,' she thought, and quickly started to advance towards the nearest cover in the hallway so she could drop her barrier and start using her biotics for something useful.

As she vacated her spot, more stormtroopers moved up by the door, and soon the hallway was crisscrossed with a pattern of laser bolts and hyperaccelerated metal shards. In the three seconds it took Priora to get to cover, both sides had taken casualties, one stormtrooper fallen against the wall of the airlock with a bloody hole in his side who was being attended to by Oceno, while two batarians had been felled, one riddled with lasrounds, while another was missing the side of her head courtesy of Veris.

Priora made it to cover just as her barrier was about to give out, ducking into the alcove with her shadow just behind her. On the other side of the hall Marthas had taken up position in a similar recess, occasionally popping off a shot of ruby energy with his sidearm. Bethany and her companion had stopped as well, through the trooper was having to make himself smaller and smaller to avoid the enemy fire now as one of the enemies focused his attention on the two.

Marthas looked over at Priora. "Well, Asari, we seem to be at an impasse. Have you any way to break it, or was I wrong to think you could provide anything useful to me?"

Priora growled, now more than a little pissed at the old human. "I'll show you useful." She growled as biotic energy coalesced around her hand.

Just as the energy reached its peak, Priora leaned out of cover and launched the Singularity at the ceiling near the farther pair of batarians. One of them saw the attack and tried to move forward during a pause in fire to get out of range, only for a knife to fly with unnerving accuracy into the joint between helmet and chestplate, sending the alien sputtering to the floor. The other batarian was not so fortunate, and so was dragged out of his cover to hover in the air near the ceiling, a dozen bolts of light and a few metal slugs punching through his body, shortly followed by a Warp that caused his body to detonate in a biotic explosion that sent the other two soldiers reeling.

The twins seized upon this chance to charge forwards, Varsius's sword hissing from its sheath to slice one of the trooper's heads off, while Tellara's Kiss was punched through the faceplate of the other in a flash, stands of monomolecular razorwire thrashing out to blend the inside of the alien's skull to soup.

Marthas walked out of cover, calmly changing the energy cell of his pistol. "Excellent. That went better than expected."

Priora felt her anger flare a bit at the Inquisitor's nonchalance with risking her life like that, but forced it down. "Could you have at least told me the plan before you opened that door?" She said with just the barest level of irritation in her voice.

"I could have. But this shows a greater degree of competence from you." Marthas said before turning back to the airlock. "Casualty report!"

"Private Nieras took a hit to the side, sire. He's stable, but unconscious." One of the two sergeants barked. "The xeno was...useful in keeping him alive." She added begrudgingly, shooting a glare at Priora.

Marthas nodded. "Better than I expected. Right, you all know the drill. Sergeant Terris, you stay here with Nieras and two others. Sergeant Barr, you take ten troopers with the Interrogator and secure the engine room. Everyone else, with me."

The two officers nodded and began barking orders, the soldiers quickly organizing before the larger group moved off towards the rear of the ship, leaving the Inquisitor, the Twins, and one middle-aged stormtrooper who was carrying a large, two-barreled weapon that connected to his backpack with a pair of bulky cables, as well as the four mercenaries.

"Well, let's get moving. We have a bridge to take." Marthas said, turning and striding off, the stormtrooper following close behind. Varsius sheathed his blade and drew a pistol as he followed. Tellara gave the mercenaries something close to an encouraging look before following her sibling down the hall.

Priora looked at her people, who looked at her. She shrugged and gestured after the Inquisitor. "You heard him. Let's take the bridge."

And with that she followed the old human and his entourage deeper into the ship, her friends following cautiously behind.

...

"Clear."

"Clear."

The reports of the soldiers behind her only registered at the edge of Bethany's mind, archived and checked off as nothing to worry about. The had made quick progress towards the back of the ship, pairs of troopers clearing the storerooms they passed quickly as Beth and the squad sergeant pushed ahead towards their objective. They hadn't encountered any other aliens yet, but it was only a matter of time until they did.

Most of her thoughts, however, were centered on her master, and the aliens he had brought with them.

Bethany understood what Marthas was planing, and could even support the idea of using a mercenary group as a front with which to attack these batarians. What she couldn't figure out was why he wanted to use _these_ xenos to do it.

She had worked with the Inquisitor for long enough to get more-or-less used to his... _relaxed_ stance on aliens. She had worked with Eldar, Tau, Kroot, and several other minor xeno species of the Milky Way in her time with Marthas; and though the first few missions were _very_ jarring to a former Arbitrator such as herself, she had come to see the value in working with some of the few other mildly sane life forms in the galaxy against the greater evils that haunted the 41st millenium.

So her concern wasn't due to simple xenophobia (though that was of course a part of her thought process), but due to the sheer amount of trust that Marthas seemed willing to put in these unknowns. It would be safer to just space them, or if feeling merciful wipe their memories and dump them on some backwater colony to find a way home. But instead he was going to put strangers, and _aliens_ no less, in charge of his men?

Bethany shook her head. She knew better than to try and counter her master's plans, so she'd just have to be watchful, and be ready to _end_ these interlopers if and/or when they decided to betray them.

"Contact!" One of the troopers yelled, ducking to the side of the door he just opened. Bethany turned, weapons ready for an attack.

"Wait! Wait!" Called out a warbley voice from inside. "I surrender! I..."

Whatever the Batarian would have said was cut out as Private Lucio, the squad's flamer bearer, stepped into the doorway and filled the room beyond with a rolling sheet of burning promethium, the xeno's screams of agony cutting out as the doors shut again.

"Clear." Lucio said, nodding to his commanders and lifting the barrel of the flamethrower so the nozzle pointed at the ceiling, a standard ready position for boarding actions.

"Keep moving. We have an objective, and every second spent here is a second the enemy has to prepare." Bethany barked, turning to continue her advance down the hall.

"Yes Ma'am!" Her squad replied, walking quickly to keep pace with their mistress.

…

The 'squad' with Marthas and the mercenaries was pressing further towards the nose of the ship and the bridge when they came across their first resistance; three Batarian soldiers who had dug in at the entrance to the quarters of the 'upper class' crewmen of the frigate, the officers and security staff, which connected directly to the bridge.

Nikolas had tanked the opening burst on his shield before rolling into cover and popping his Tech armor, the rest of the squad stacking up on the corner, and Tellara (as the lithe woman had been introduced) popping up on the other side of the hall beside Nik.

Marthas slid to the edge of the corner and peeked around, seeing the three enemies clustered around the door at the end of a short hall.

He turned back to Priora. "Well, asari, how shall we do this?"

"Wha...why are you asking me?!" She asked, honestly shocked.

"This is your examination, is it not? Show me that you are capable of leading!" The inquisitor barked.

"Uh, ok, sure." She moved past Marthas and looked down the hall wincing as a round bounced off her barriers before ducking back. "Ok, um...what's your name again?" She said, looking at the stormtrooper.

"Geralsis." He grunted.

"Ok, Geralsis, what exactly can that weapon of yours do?"

The trooper looked at Marthas, who nodded permission. "It's a hotshot volley-gun. Fires the same kind of energy beams as the rifles the other squad had, but at a much higher rate of fire. It's meant for use at suppression or scything down people out of cover."

Priora nodded. "Ok, here's what we do. Nik, pop a drone up behind them. While they're distracted, I'll hit them with a singularity, then Geralsis, you shred them. If any of them don't get caught, teleporter over there jumps in and finishes them off. Got it?"

"Dah."

"Understood."

"Got it. My name is Tellara, by the way."

"Priora. Now, execute!"

Nikolas leaned out of cover with his omni-tool active, a flash of data causing a spherical holo-drone to appear behind the baratian soldiers, releasing a powerful shock that stunned one of them. As they turned away, Priora leaned out of cover and hurled an orb of biotic energy at them with a grunt.

The singularity struck the ground in front of the soldiers, sucking two of them into the vortex.

Geralsis took this as his cue, and stepped out into the hall, raising his weapon as Priora projected a protective barrier in front of him to make sure the last enemy didn't take him out.

The volley-gun let out a splitting howl as Geralsis opened fire, a veritable stream of laser bursts spraying from the twin barrels of the weapon. The barrage completely ignored what little protection the two batarian's shields might have provided, the lines of condensed light punching through them in such volume that the helpless soldiers were ripped apart, torsos and limbs separated by the sheer volume of fire.

The last batarian didn't really have time to dwell on the fate of his allies, as Tellara suddenly appeared behind him and punched her Kiss into his back before ripping his throat open with an energy-sheathed hand, leaving him to sputter and die on the floor as his liquefied organs ran out of his throat.

"All targets eliminated, move up!"

The squad advanced to the door where Tellara was waiting, having drawn her crew-quarters was relatively small, only six doors in total in a twenty foot hallway. All the doors were closed and had red locked holograms on them.

"Nikolas, can you override the locks? I don't want anyone shooting us in the back while we take the bridge."

"Yeah, give me a second." The Russian activated his Omni-tool, scanning the wall for a few seconds before he stopped. "Ok, I got it." His fingers flew across the haptic display, for almost thirty seconds, then the locks on all the doors turned green.

"Alright, let's clear this place out. Geralsis, you watch the far door. The rest of us will clear the rooms."

Everyone nodded, and Priora made her way to the first door on her right. She hit the lock and rounded the door, pistol raised and barrier at full strength. Immediately she saw a batarian cowering behind one of the small beds in the room, and snapped her pistol to him.

"No, wait!" He yelled.

The loud BANG of Priora's Phalanx pistol silenced the pleading of the crewman before he could get any further, splattering blood and grey matter along the back wall of the crew cabin.

"Sorry buddy. But a job's a job." She said to the dead man. "Clear!" She called out louder, stepping back into the hall.

A wet slurping sound that the Asari had learned to associate with Tellara's punch-dagger came from the next room over, and the woman emerged moments later. "Clear." She said, nodding to Priora.

"Report. Are we clear to push up?" Priora called out.

"I'm clear." Oceno said.  
"Clear." Veris echoed.

"All targets eliminated." Varsius said, sheathing his blade on his back with a _snick._

 _Hm, his voice is very melodic._ Priora thought idly before mentally slapping herself back into focus.

"Yeah, we should be good. Shall we continue?" Tellara chirped, walking towards the end of the hall.

Priora caught Varsius rolling his eyes as he moved to follow his sister, and couldn't help a twitch of her lips at the familiar action. Her sister…

She clamped down on that line of thought immediately. She was _not_ going to go into that now. They had a job to finish.

"Ok, this should be the last area before the bridge, correct Inquisitor?" She asked.

"Yes. According to the plans your mother provided, this door opens up to a short hallway that leads to the bridge." Marthas said.

"Ok, Oceno, how many soldiers do you think we'll be dealing with?"

"Interdiction-class frigates usually have a security compliment of between eighteen and twenty-two. So, considering what we've dealt with so far, and assuming the captain isn't a total idiot, we can probably expect to see between five and seven marines defending the bridge."

Geralsis let out an approving noise. "If you can keep providing this kind of information, xeno, I might actually be able to get used to working with you." The stormtrooper said.

"Um...thanks?" Oceno said haltingly, not sure is she should be offended or not.

"Focus." Marthas said.

"Yeah." Priora agreed. "Ok, so here's how we're going to approach this…"

…

"Ready?" Bethany whispered.

A series of affirmatives came over the squad vox, and she tightened her grip on her power maul.

"Breach in 3...2...1...GO!"

The door to the engine room slid open with a chime, and two troopers hurled flash grenades through the door. There was a beat, then the charges detonated in a blast of light and sound, and Bethany was charging through the door, suppression shield raised and maul at the ready, her soldiers charging in after her with battle cries on their lips.

The first alien was still stunned by the flash grenades, and Bethany bashed him aside with her shield, discharging a burst of electricity into his body and causing him to spasm and jerk as he smashed into the bulkhead, a bayonet to the throat quickly ending his thrashing.

The Interrogator's next target had recovered from the disorientation of the flash-charge and raised a rifle to fire on the attackers. Bethany reached out into the Immaterium, feeling the eerie calmness of this realities warp, and channeled the energy into herself, eyes glowing emerald green as the skin and muscle of her maul-arm hardened and strengthened, magnifying her strength to superhuman levels.

When her maul smashed into the Batarian's back, with the power level raised to 80% and her strength bolstered by Hammerhand, the alien crumpled in half lengthwise like a snapped board, almost folding in half with the strength of the blow, before crumpling to the ground in a broken heap.

The hissing crack of lasfire rang out around her as her troopers ripped into the batarian defenders. One or two managed to get off return fire before being perforated, and two of her men went down from the alien fire; one cursing loudly as he tried to staunch his bleeding leg, the other dropping in silence as her head snapped backwards in a spray of blood, the round shattering the lense of her helmet.

Like most combats in such tight quarters, it was over in moments. The last batarian defender died screaming, disemboweled by Sergeant Barr's chainsword as it tried vainly to surrender, it's pitiful wails of pain silenced by a chainblade cleaving it's face in twain.

The grizzled veteran looked over at Bethany, who was slowly purging the warp energy from her body as the glow of her eyes faded, her mind sealed once again to the dangers of the Warp.

"Engine room secure, Interrogator." He said with a tired voice.

"Casualties?" Beth asked, sliding her maul into the loop on her belt.

"Jakob took a hit to the leg, he'll be down for a while but he should recover. Hellen…" He looked over at the still form of the other trooper, blood slowly leaking out of her helm, the faceplate obscuring the damage to her head. "KIA."

Bethany placed a hand on the older man's shoulder, sharing the loss of a long time squadmate, before she turned away again, her emotions once again hidden behind her Inquisitorial expression.

She activated the vox-bead in her ear. "Master. We've secured the engine room with minimal casualties. What is your progress?"

 _"_ _We should be finished up here shortly, Interrogator. Leave a guard for the engine room and take your wounded back to the ship."_

"Understood master. Bethany out."

...

In the hallway directly outside the bridge of the _Graceful Hiran_ , several steel tables and crates had been arranged as cover for the six Batarian marines who were the last defenders of their vessel. All of them had assault rifles trained on the door to the crew quarters, and they heard the gunfire and cries as the enemy pushed through and murdered the crewmembers who had been trapped there. Their resolve grew, and hands tightened on weapons as they prepared to sell their lives dearly.

The door opened, and they opened fire; only for their bullets to be stopped by the telekinetic barrier Marthas had erected.

The mercs didn't wait for the batarians to overcome their confusion, and Verris blew out the back of one's head with a sniper round from the far end of the hall. Oceno and Nikolas promptly opened up with their Vindicator and Mattock rifles respectively, knocking the shields off of one trooper and forcing him into cover and riddling another with rounds. The fusilade didn't let up as Priora launched a biotic attack at the defenders, one that her Mother had personally taught her.

Flare.

The blast of dark energy flung the batarians into the walls with bone breaking force, cutting off their fire as they tried to recover.

Geralsis didn't waste the opportunity presented, and began spraying the defensive position with his volley gun, covering the dash of the Keletii siblings as they closed the distance, the whirr of his shuriken pistol and snap of her laspistol joining the suppressing fire.

Soon the distance was crossed, and the pair tore into the remaining batarians. Varsius did not even bothering to draw his sword as knives whirred through the air around him, slitting throats and carving eyes as his fists and feet laid the batarians out, and his sister ripped and tore through the aliens with her exotic weaponry.

In a display that was by now common for the Imperials, the batarians were soon left dead on the floor, with little more than bloodsplater marring them.

"That went well, Asari." Marthas said, lowering his barrier but maintaining the swirling indigo glow in his eyes as he strode down the hall. "In fact, this whole incursion has gone rather well. I think that we will have a very... _successful_ working relationship in the future. However, I'd rather just get this over with now, so if you will give me a moment…"

He stopped before the locked doors of the bridge and raised a hand to his temple, closing his eyes as the indigo light that glowed from his eye sockets only grew brighter.

The four natives glanced at each other as they walked towards the Inquisitor, the other imperials stopping some distance away. "Uh, thanks for the approval, I guess." Priora said. "So how are you going to deal…"

Her words died in her throat as she heard a terrified scream come from the other side of the door, soon followed by other such sounds of distress and agony. Soon after came the aura of WRONG that seeped from the Inquisitor, causing the four to half raise their weapons at him as a creeping sense of horror wormed into their minds as the screams and cries got louder and more desperate.

Then, a flurry of gunfire sounded beyond the door, and the screaming stopped.

Marthas raised his other hand and waved it, and the door opened to reveal a batarian in a Captain's uniform, missing his top left eye, standing there with blood spattered across his chest and an overheated pistol in his hand, the twisted forms of the bridge staff scattered through the room behind him; some shot, and some leaking blood and brains from their eyes and nostrils.

Marthas snapped his fingers, and the Batarian collapsed like a puppet with his strings cut. He turned, the unearthly fires in his eyes fading, with a blank expression on his face.

"Secure him and take him back to the ship." he said, his voice tired and dull. "Then get some tech adepts over here. I am done with this place."

And with that he strode past the shocked mercenaries, not taking a single look back.

…

 _Serpent Nebula, the Citadel, Presidium Tower, at the same time._

The Citadel was burning.

From within the council chambers at the peak of the Presidium tower, one could watch with morbid fascination as the battle in space raged, and the Citadel defense fleet was torn apart piece by piece by the seemingly unstoppable squid-like Dreadnought that had led the geth fleet into battle, trapped within the arms of the Citadel itself as the monster blasted their ships with impunity.

Within the chambers, on the podium normally used by those addressing the Council, a lone Turian taped rapidly at a haptic interface set before a holoscreen which hadn't seen use in almost 50'000 years as fires burned throughout the chamber.  
 _Close...just a few more…_

Saren Arterius paused for a moment as he heard the elevator doors slid open with a groan, heard the pounding of armored feet as someone approached.

 _Of course,_ SHE _would be here, wouldn't she? It's wouldn't be a fitting end to this otherwise..._ the Turian cyborg thought, inputting the last few codes and beginning the data handover just as Shepard and her merry band approached.

 _Time to finish this, once and for all._ He thought with a snarl, vaulting over the railing and out of sight.

...

The crew of the Normandy stormed into the council chambers at a full sprint, weapons raised and armor spattered with Krogan blood and Geth fluids. They slowed somewhat as they approached the platform with the still-open citadel controls, scanning about with their weapons.

Not seeing anyone around, Shepard lowered her weapon slightly and stepped forward. "Tali, come on, let's see if we can…"

Then a familiar droning sound echoed through the room, and everyone dove from cover as Saren rose from the pit beyond the platform on his Reaper disk, launching a powerful biotic blast at the area Shepard had just vacated and peppering their cover with for from his pistol.

"I was afraid you wouldn't make it in time, Shepard." The fallen specter said as he ceased his firing.

"In time for what?" Jane responded.

"The final confrontation. I think we both new somehow that it would end like this."

"You mean with us putting a hole in your head? Yeah, that's how I thought things would work out." Garrus called out, receiving a shot to his shields for his trouble before ducking back behind cover.

"Don't you realize that you've already lost!?" Saren snarled. "In minutes, Sovereign will have control of the Citadel's systems. The Relay will open, the Reapers will come, and the harvest will commence."

"The connection isn't made yet, Saren! There's still time for us to stop this, stop you!" Jane called out, shuffling around to the edge of her cover to peak at the hovering cyborg.

'Hm." Saren grunted. "You may have survived our encounter on Virmire, but I've...changed since then. Improved. Sovereign has...upgraded me."

"You let that thing implant reaper tech in you?! Are you insane!?" Tali said with disbelief.

"YES, I DID!" Saren snarled before composing himself again. "In fact, I have you to _thank_ for it, Shepard. After what you said on Virmire, about Sovereign manipulating me, about Indoctrination, I had doubts about what needs to be done, and Sovereign sensed it. But now, with these new gifts, my resolve is stronger than ever before."

Though the traitor spoke with conviction, Jane could barely hear a waver in his voice that betrayed his true feelings.

"Now my doubts are gone. I know, I _understand_ why the harvest, the culling needs to happen. Stop resisting, Shepard, and I promise that the end will be easy and painless."

"You're expecting us to just lay down and die? You obviously don't know humans very well." Kaiden spat at him.

Wrex rumbled in agreement. "The Krogan have been fighting extinction since we first crawled out of the muck, don't expect us to just roll over just cause you asked politely!"

"Sovereign is controlling you through your implants, Saren! Don't you see that?"

"You don't understand, _**none**_ of you do!" Saren yelled, his voice a mix of rage and desperation. "You haven't seen what I have! What will happen if this does not come to pass! You have not seen the monsters lurking beyond the veil, who can only be kept at bay by this slaughter, this butchery of civilizations!" His voice rose to a panicked scream. "Do you think I _want_ this? _ANY_ OF THIS?! I _**DON'T**_ , AND I NEVER DID! BUT **THERE IS NO OTHER CHOICE**!"

"By the goddess, he's gone mad." Liara said.

"There's always another choice, Saren!" Jane yelled in return. "I don't know what Sovereign has shown you, but NOTHING is worth what it wants! It could be lying for all you know. But you do know what happens if it gets control of this station. Step aside, and let us stop this!"

"You can't stop the Reapers, Shepard! Not forever, you can only delay them. You saw the visions; the Protheans couldn't stop them, and they were ten times the civilization we are! And even if you could defeat them, somehow, what would come after would be a thousand times worse than simple death."

Something about the moment, about Saren's voice, told her that he was close to breaking, and she decided to take a risk, standing from her cover with pistol lowered.

"Jane!" Liara cried, reaching for her.

"Saren, some part of you must know that this is wrong! You can fight this!" She shouted, locking her vibrant green eyes with his unnatural, glowing blue ones.

Saren's gun hand trembled for a few moments as Shepard and her team held their breaths, and then slowly lowered. "Maybe...maybe you're right, Shepard. Maybe there is a chance for us to avoid-AUG!"

Saren collapsed to his knees, holding his head as a cry of agony rolled from his throat.

Shepard's team was quick to take advantage of this opportunity, rushing out of cover to trai weapons on the downed Specter, but Jane's raised hand held their fire.

"The implants…" Saren wheezed, forcing himself to one knee. "Sovereign...is too strong...it is too late for me…"

"Saren, it's not over yet." Shepard said, taking a step forward. Even with all he had done, now, in this moment, Jane couldn't just let him give up, not when he seemed to finally break whatever spell the Reaper had on him. "You can still redeem yourself!"

Saren looked again at Shepard, and she saw the relief in his eyes. "No, Shepard...it is far too late for that...but, thank you…" He choked out, limbs trembling as he fought the Reaper's influence. "And...good luck…"

And with that, he raised his pistol to the side of his head and pulled the trigger.

There was a spurt of blue blood, and then the fallen Specter fell from his disk limply, breaking through the glass below him with a crash.

Jane sighed. "Garrus, Wrex, make sure he's dead. Tali, Kaidan, let's stop that transfer." She said blankly.

The two men nodded and jumped into the grassy pit below as Shepard and Tali opened up the Citadel Controls.

"Ok, it looks like Sovereign doesn't have control yet, let me just bypass this and...Yes!" Tali pumped her fist in the air. "Connection severed! That damn squid won't be opening the relay any time soon."

Jane let out a sigh of relief and slumped against the railing, a great pressure in her chest releasing. Liara's hand slid into hers and squeezed, and the two smiled.

 _'_ _Commander? Commander, do you read?"_

Joker's voice broke over the coms. "Yeah Joker, we're here. What's the report?"

 _"_ _The First and Third fleets are here, commander, we're just mopping up the last geth ships now, but the Wards are blocking us from getting at Sovereign. You think you can open things up for us?"_

Jane was about to respond when another voice broke over the coms.

 _"_ _Mayday, Mayday, this is_ _Matriarch Lidanya_ _, Captain of the_ Destiny Ascension. _We have the council aboard and have taken heavy damage. We need support NOW or that thing is going to rip us apart! Hello, hello is anyone there?!"_

Jane froze, and for a moment a tiny part of her mind urged her to do nothing, to let the trio of useless bureaucrats suffer the fate their denial and hubris had set for them, and let Humanity sweep in and take control of the power vacuum that would result.

She quickly smashed down that small renegade thought process. "Tali, get the wards open now!" Jane cried. "Joker, get ready to engage Sovereign as soon as an opening shows itself. Get that thing off the _Ascension!_ "

 _"_ _Roger Commander."_ Joker said. Then, more quietly, " _Those assholes better be grateful for this…shit, is that still-"_ The feed cut off.

Beyond the windows of the chamber, the wards of the citadel, which burned where the debris of shattered starships had smashed into them, began to open. Jane could faintly see the glow of engines as Alliance frigates, led by the Normandy, charged towards the Reaper threatening the _Destiny Ascension_ while cruisers and two dreadnoughts fired round after round into Sovereign's insanely powerful shields.

"Shepard." Garrus' voice called from below. Jane moved to the edge and looked down into the pit. "He's dead. Round went straight through his brain. It's over."

Jane let out a relieved breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding. "Ok, then let's get out of here. I'm sure there's still geth or husks around, and we should help what's left of C-Sec secure the Presidium as best we can."

"Slimy asshole got off easy." Wrex grumbled, nudging Saren's body with his foot.

In response, the body jerked, and to everyone's surprise, grabbed a hold of Wrex's ankle.

"What the hell!?" Wrex shouted, before the corpse jerked and with unnatural strength hurled the Krogan into the support struts of the platform the rest of the team was on even as Garrus started pumping assault rifle rounds into it.

Wrex hit with such force that the struts crumpled, causing the other members of the tram to tumble into the pit, as the corpse of the former specter jerked to it's feet and let out an electronic scream, Saren's flesh burned away to reveal a skeletal body with a glowing red torso in the rough shape of a Turian, revealing the true extent of Sovereigns 'upgrades' to its servant.

"Light it up!" Jane cried, opening fire on the monstrosity with the others following suit.

Barriers sprang to life around the reaper beast, and it chattered as it shot to one of the walls like a bullet, clinging on as it's eyes shot beams of red energy that splashed against Jane's shields.

"Shit!" She cried, ducking behind cover at Liara, Wrex, and Kaidan tried to lock the thing down with their biotics while Garrus and Tali riddled it shields with fire. Jane joined in snapping of shots with her pistol at the creature, which was leaping about like a Geth stalker, blasting away at them with its eyebeams.

Garrus cried out as one of the blasts shattered his shields, carving a furrow in his leg. Tali and Jane shouted his name and sent an Overload each at the monster, the combined electronic bursts staggering the beast for a moment and allowing Kaidan to land a solid Throw on the creature's center of mass.

Unfortunately, instead of smashing into the wall with a few thousand newtons of force, like a _normal_ enemy, the creature caught itself and launched directly at Jane, smashing her into the pillar behind her and knocking away her pistol.

Stunned, the creature used the opportunity to grab shepard by the throat and slam her into the ground, leaning over her as it ignored the biotics and bullets bouncing off it's shields.

 _"_ _You have not won, Shepard."_ The thing rasped in a mockery of Saren's voice. _"You have not stopped us. You have only delayed the inevitable. We will come, we shall harvest, and we shall stop the births as we have for Millennia."_ Its grip tightened, and Jane's vision started to go dark even as the thing's shields failed and rounds started to tear into it. _"Our cause is beyond your comprehension, beyond anything you may deem as_ ** _right._** _So just accept your place as a mortal should and_ ** _die!_** _"_

Jane gurgled for breath as her hand scrabbled on her belt as darkness closed in at the edges of her vision, finally latching onto her last grenade.

She hit the primer and shoved the explosive into the thing's exposed ribcage just as Liara launched a Throw with all the strength she had left into the monster's side, hurling it full force into the wall of the chamber.

"Jane!" The asari rushed to Shepard's side, helping the woman sit up as she gasped for breath. They looked over as the reaper monstrosity tried to get to it's feet, left arm mangled by the impact of the throw.

"Oh, no you fucking don't." Jane snarled, and activated the remote detonator for the grenade stuck in the beast's chest.

The blast of the High explosive grenade blew the monster's torso open, and it stuttered out electronic noises. Jane pushed herself to her feet, ignoring Liara's protest and approached the fallen monster, drawing her sniper as she did. The thing's head ground to look at her and she pressed the barrel of her rifle between it's 'Eyes' as it's wrecked speakers spoke again.

" _Y-Y-You-uuuuu can-can not s-s-s-survi-i-ive. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee will ha-ve our duuuuuuuu_ " the thing stuttered.

"Oh, fuck of." Jane replied and fired, the sniper's heavy round obliterating the thing's head and finally causing the abomination to die.

Unbeknownst to the ground team, who began checking injuries and slumping against nearby walls as the adrenalin from this last fight wore off, the death of the Saren-creature caused a feedback loop in Sovereign's massive electronic mind, and shorted out it's shields. In less than thirty seconds, the issue would have been fixed, and twenty-four point 3 seconds after that the shields would have been raised. However, one particularly skilled Alliance pilot used the break in the Reaper's shields to fire his first and last shot from his vessel's dorsal Mass Accelerator right into the Heart of the Reaper, destroying it's mass effect core and starting a chain reaction that blasted the 9.2 million year old warship into scrap.

Some of which flew directly towards the Presidium tower.

The team had just climbed up out of the pit when Wrex looked back out at the battle taking place outside and saw the massive hunk of debris flying at them.

"Well shit."

Wrex's grumbled expletive was all the warning Jane had before the piece of Sovereign crashed into the tower and her world went black.

…

 _Three Days Later_

 _It's all so...normal._

It was the morning of the third day after the attack on the Citadel was thwarted. Jane was standing on the balcony of her room in one of the Presidium's hotels, a gift from the Council for her heroic actions in the battle. She was watching the various people moving around the grounds below, of many races, as if today was nothing different from any other, as if the combat and deaths which took place a scant 72 hours ago had never happened.

 _But then, it's probably for the best._ She thought, sipping on the cup of coffee in her hands. _Better to accept the event and move on. I just hope they don't forget the cost so easily._

She looked out over the station, at the wards that still had large portions dark, deprived of power by the damage caused when Sovereign exploded, courtesy of an expertly fired shot from the Normandy.

So much had happened in that short time. After Anderson and hit team dug everyone out of the rubble of the Council chambers (she was still amazed no-one had died, though Garrus would still be in the hospital for a few weeks, and Wrex broke all the bones in his arms stopping some debris from crushing her and Liara), they'd been hustled off to a nearby hospital. She'd been discharged a day later, and had attended the ceremony where Tevos, Valern, and Sparatus presented humanity with a seat on the Citadel Council.

She had of course suggested Anderson for the position. Udina was a snake, and she'd shave her head before she helped that man climb any ladder, political or otherwise.

However, she was...less than encouraged by the stance the Council seemed to be taking with what actually happened. She could understand using the story of Sovereign as simply an advanced Geth dreadnought to keep the masses from panicking, but it seemed like Sparatus and Tevos almost believed the story themselves. Anderson was of course against it, and Valern seemed undecided, but she still had a sinking feeling that she was going to have to do _even more_ to prove to the Council, if not the Galaxy, that the Reapers were coming.

And then there was the files that Captain Kirrahe had sent her last night, that she'd read this morning after waking up.

Kirrahe had been part of one of several teams sent to recover parts of Sovereign that crashed on the Citadel. One of the pieces his team secured was part of a databank, and while most of the data was destroyed, corrupted, or encrypted, there were several that were not.

Saren's journals.

There were only a few of them, and a lot of it was just the Ramblings of a man gradually going mad from Indoctrination, but there was one passage that concerned her.

After Virmire, Saren recounted that he'd heard a faint, enraged scream echoing across his link with the Reaper. And something close to concern coming across the link. When he enquired what was wrong, the Reaper actually responded, saying that 'a new variable has emerged.'

From what it said, this occurred around the time Jane had passed out on the beach, and when Tevos had had her 'episode.'

And it concerned her. Did her being able to hear that scream mean she had some connection to the Reapers? And what were these 'new variables'? They could have something to do with the ships she saw, but she didn't know.

And that was the biggest issue. That she did not know. There was _so much_ she didn't know, and that she _needed_ to know if she was going to stop the Reapers.

"Jane?"

Liara's voice from within the room pulled her out of her musings. "Out here." She called out, and a few moments later a pair of arms wrapped around her waist, a warm weight coming to rest on her back and Liara's head resting on her shoulder. Jane leaned her cheek into that of her alien lover, saying nothing.

For now, it was enough to just be together, without a looming threat bearing down on the horizon.

After a few minutes spent like that, Liara spoke up. "So, what were you doing out here."

"Just...thinking."

"About what?"

"...nothing important. At least, not yet. There are some questions I want to get answered, but they can wait until everyone is back up to full strength. We all deserve some rest after what we've been through." Shepard said, turning in Liara's arms until they were face-to-face and planting a light kiss on her lips. "So, what about we have some breakfast?"

...

 ** _A/N:_** _Hello All. It is me, your friendly neighborhood Raptor-Centurion, back with another installment of this lovely story._

 _Not much to say for this one, just that (as you've likely noticed) I've deleted the character index here. Fear not, for I've made the index as its own story, called Necessary Monsters Character Index. Just go to my profile if you can't find it in the ME/40k crossover section. It has everything teh old index did, plus a few minor changes._

 _Also, apologies if the layout for this chapter is fucked, FF.N has decided it won't let me upload documents or save changes to documents on FF.N when I use my laptop, and as such this was uploaded from my phone so...yeah, sorry._

 _That concludes this author's note, so please, Review, Follow &Fave if you're new, and as always,_

Imperator senatus et populi Romani Dinosaurs


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